


Robin Nesting In His Mane

by ReadedBliss



Series: The Lion and the Robin - Dragon Age Inquisition [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Family, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Magic, Minor Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Morality, Romance, Sex, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-05-05 21:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadedBliss/pseuds/ReadedBliss
Summary: Although Clara was able to seal the Breach, her adventure with the Inquisition did not end. She has survived her first encounter with the ancient Tevinter magister, Corypheus. Now she takes up a new role with the powerful Inquisition and stands poised to prevent the Dark Future she witnessed in Redcliffe. As she navigates the world of politics, intrigue, war, and magic, there remains one unchanging point; the feelings she holds for Cullen Rutherford. Will being a mage prevent her story from finding its happily ever after?





	1. Prelude - A Way Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Prelude - A Way Forward

 

Darkness was the first thing Clara woke up to. For a moment, she simply gazed into the blackness. She blinked her eyes a few times, uncertain they were open. Gradually, they adjusted and she could make out the faint light of the sky above. It looked so far away, like staring down a tunnel. She stared up at it for several minutes before her mind began to join her body.

“How far did I fall?” she wondered. She sat up and gave a gasp of pain; bruised or possibly broken ribs. Quickly she took stock of the rest of her. Nothing else felt broken, although her ankle felt sprained. She touched her head and felt a massive lump on the back where she must have hit it on the ground. But nothing seemed to be too terribly injured. She climbed to her feet and swayed slightly but she remained standing.

“Okay, first things first,” she thought. She put a hand to her ribs and willed the magic into her body. Nothing happened.

“Come on,” she pleaded, “I have to do this.”

Slowly, she felt the bones under her fingers pull together. She hissed with the pain as a couple ribs knit together. But she could do no more.

“I have to find the others,” she whispered, urging her body to march forward. Slowly, she stepped forward into a wall. She couldn’t see anything in front of her. She tried to summon a flame in her hand, but her magic was exhausted. Her wrist was terribly bruised where Corypheus had held her. The mark was bright green, but the light it gave was barely enough to read by. Clara tried again and managed to make a tiny flame appear on her fingers. She held it high and took stock of her surroundings.

“Looks like an old mine,” she thought, “And where there’s a mine, there’s…”

It took all of thirty seconds to find the minecart tracks and Clara moved as fast as her sprained ankle would allow. At last, she reached the open area that connected all the different mine tunnels. A foreboding creaking sound suddenly echoed from the rafters.

“How old is this place?” she thought. As if in answer, a beam fell to the ground. Following the beam was a host of demons. Clara tried to run but her ankle gave out beneath her. As she fell, she threw an arm across her face and the mark exploded, sending up the magic into the air. The demons moaned and writhed as the rift opened and pulled the demons back in. Clara watched in amazement as the rift closed again and her hand returned to a soft, green glow.

“What did I just do?” Clara said aloud. The roof groaned again and Clara got out of the way as the tunnel she had been down previously collapsed with the weight of the avalanche. She decided to worry about her new power later and hurried towards the exit. Outside, she froze in her tracks as she saw the blizzard outside. She must have been unconscious for hours, perhaps even days.

“Is anyone there?” Clara called into the snow. There was no answer. Not that she expected one. And there was no way to be heard over the wind.

“I can’t go out in this,” she thought. She backed toward the tunnel again but the final weight of the avalanche broke the beams and completely collapsed the mine. Clara was sent rolling down the hill into the snow. The cold went down to the bone and the wind cut through her like a knife. The wind blew her hair in tangles and she pulled Cullen’s cloak more tightly around her.

“Well,” she said to herself, “Going back isn’t an option. Forward it is.”

But she had no clue which was the rest of the Inquisition had gone. It was hard to tell by her position when she saw the arrow over the tree line and she had no idea where the tunnel had let out. She looked around for any indication of where the people had gone, but not even a footprint remained. Clara looked back toward the village. That was not an option. So that meant either down the mountain or up into the hills. Clara grabbed a handful of snow and formed it into a ball.

“Toss a snowball in the air,” she said, “And where it lands, then I go there.”

She threw the snowball high and it landed in the direction of going up into the hills.

“On we go,” Clara thought. She adjusted the cloak and began to walk. For several hours, she made good progress. But eventually, she had to stop under a grove of trees to get out of the wind. Her lips and cheeks were chapped and sore by the constant slapping of the wind in her face and her dress was not meant for this kind of weather. As she walked, she came across a few abandoned wagons and the remains of a campfire.

“Definitely going the right way,” Clara thought. She hurried over to the embers and bent down. She sighed.

“Stone cold,” she thought, “For hours now.”

There was nothing else to do but keep walking. Eventually, the grove of trees ended and she was standing it open space. Distantly she heard the sounds of wolves howling and she shivered from the cold and the fear.

“I can’t stop,” she whispered, “Gotta keep going.”

As Clara walked, she became aware of a new concern. She was not feeling the cold as before and she was tired. Everything in her struggled to keep moving, but it was becoming harder to push through the snow as it grew deeper. Clara’s toes and fingers were numb and she was gasping as her ribs protested painfully. After an hour, she saw more signs of people; a broken wheel, a discarded cauldron. But no signs of life. Clara’s foot caught something under the snow and she fell. The snow bit into her skin and she gave a cry of pain as she fell on her ribs. She lay unmoving, save for her ragged breathing.

“I can’t go any further,” she thought. She looked up and saw another campfire. She forced herself to crawl over to it and felt the slightest bit of heat.

“This is recent,” she whispered. She kept crawling up to the top of the hill. Sleep was fast approaching now and she struggled.

“I’ll die if I sleep,” she thought. As she reached the crest of the hill, she saw faintly the lights of hundreds of campfires

“Cullen,” she whispered. But her body could do no more and she collapsed fully unconscious.

 

***

 

Cullen was pacing in front of the campfire. He could hear Dorian shouting, but he only knew a few words of the Tevinter native language. But from the tone, it didn’t take much guessing what he was saying.

“If you had just let me go,” Dorian shouted at the Iron Bull, “I could have helped her. We all could have helped her.”

“We had a job to do,” Iron Bull said, “Clara gave us an order and…”

“Don’t you dare use her name,” Dorian snapped. Iron Bull clenched his fist but said nothing.

“Enough from both of you,” Cassandra said, “This arguing is solving nothing.”

Leliana came over to Cullen. He looked at her expectantly.

“My agents have seen no one coming from Haven,” she said sadly, “I don’t think we…”

Cullen shook his head. He turned back to look at Clara’s companions.

“I can’t in good conscience order anyone to come with me,” he said, “But if anyone would like to volunteer, I would be grateful.”

Dorian immediately stood up. So did Cassandra, Sera, Varric, and Blackwall. Leliana grabbed his shoulder.

“You can’t go out in this storm,” Leliana said, “We can’t lose our commander. We need you to lead the forces.”

“We have to know,” Cullen said, “I can’t sit idly by and…”

He trailed off, looking at the edge of the mountains.

“Do you see that?” he said. Leliana looked in the direction Cullen stared.

“I see nothing,” she said, turning back and saw that Cullen had vanished. She looked around quickly again and saw him marching off with Dorian, Cassandra, and the rest. Iron Bull was standing with his arms crossed. Vivienne and Sera watched from the fireplace, apparently feeling the same as Iron Bull did.

“They’ll figure it out soon enough,” he said. Leliana shook her head and hurried after them. 

Cullen gave a shiver as the wind cut through him. In this weather, he was glad Clara would still have his cloak to protect her. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that it hoped she would still have it, but he paid it no heed.

“Clara is no fool,” Dorian said, “She’ll have found shelter as best she could. We’ll have to check very closely for any caves or mines.”

“Dwarves had access to the Deep Roads from here,” Varric said, “I think I remember hearing about an old mine in an extinct taig.”

“I don’t remember seeing anything like it when we were marching,” Blackwall said, “But we were a little preoccupied.”

“We go slowly,” Cassandra said, “And we make sure that we have torches out. This wind will make it very hard for anyone to see us, including each other.”

Cullen’s long strides were nearly impossible to keep up with, so Leliana ducked behind the tents and came around to cut them off at the base of the mountain path.

“I won’t let you go any further,” she said, “No one is worth the loss of you.”

“You overestimate my importance,” Cullen said, “And you underestimate her.”

Leliana glared at him.

“I do not want to accept the facts,” she said, “But there is no one left at Haven. And we can’t possibly go out in this storm to see about recovering b-bodies.”

Cullen crossed his arms.

“I will not believe that she is gone,” he said, “Not until I see her….” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“We have much to do,” Leliana said, “All these people have to get out of the open. We need to find a place for them.”

“Not without her,” Cullen said, “We can’t leave her behind.”

Leliana sighed.

“I’m sure she sits at the Maker’s side,” Leliana said quietly. Cullen felt tears prick the back of his eyes. He looked up into the mountains. The snow had finally stopped and he could see the edge of the trees. He could also see a soft glow of green.

“Do you see that?” he whispered. Leliana rolled her eyes.

“I’m not falling for that again,” she said. Cullen moved around her and Leliana looked up. And she saw what he did. Dorian raced behind Cullen as he climbed up the mountain path, the snow slowing each step. As he reached a large drift of snow, he bent down and began to scrap the snow away. Beneath it, curled tightly into a ball, was Clara.

“Oh, Clara,” he whispered. She was pale as the snow and just as cold. He pulled her free and held her close. Dorian and Cassandra came up behind him, with Blackwall and Varric close behind.

“Thank the Maker,” Cassandra whispered. Dorian fell into the snow and began to heal her wounds. Clara gave a groan and slowly opened her eyes.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked quietly. Cullen gave a small choked sob.

“No, you’re here,” he said, “And so I am.”

Clara reached out to touch his face. Her fingers were blue with cold. He shivered.

“We have to get you warm,” Dorian said, “Cullen, get her down to the tents. And strip to your breeches.”

Cullen went red, but he held his composure. He picked the young woman up and carried her down to the camp.

“I’m so cold,” Clara whimpered. Cullen got her down to the tent as quickly as possible. He laid her down on the mat where the healers began to undress her. Cullen quickly averted his gaze as Dorian came through.

“Undress, Commander,” Dorian said, “She needs heat.”

The healers all nodded and Cullen, face still red and burning, pulled off his armor, shirt, and boots. Quickly he lay on the mat beside Clara and covered them both up. He pulled her body to his. 

“Cullen,” Clara whispered, “Where are we?” She opened her eyes and Cullen saw her pupils had been nearly swallowed by the blue.

“Just rest,” he said softly, “You’re safe. We’re safe. That’s all that matters right now.”

Clara gave a soft cry and began to shiver uncontrollably. 

“I hurt,” she cried. Cullen kissed her hair.

“I know,” he soothed, “You’re nearly frozen, Clara. It’s going to hurt for some time, I’m afraid.”

Clara gasped and moaned as her blood began to flow again. She had never experienced such pain, not even when her belly had been cut in the dark future at Redcliffe. 

“Isn’t there anything we can do for her?” Cullen asked desperately. The healers all shook their heads sadly.

“We can’t give her any pain drafts for her wounds until she’s been warmed up,” one healer said.

“Perhaps I can do something.”

All eyes turned to see a little girl standing at the tent entrance. Beside her, her parents were looking in with concern.

“I heard that the Herald of Andraste was back,” she said, “My mommy said she saved us from the bad people.”

Clara looked at the little girl and smiled through her pain.

“They’re gone,” Clara whispered. The little girl came inside the tent, carrying a small bowl of something steaming. Clara’s stomach rumbled as the scent of broth reached her nose.

“I’m not really hungry,” the little girl said, “So I wanted to give the Herald my supper.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Cullen said. He eased Clara into a sitting position and Clara pulled the blanket around her exposed chest. She took the bowl from the little girl and sipped it slowly. It warmed her inside like fire and she gasped as it touched the bruised ribs. The little girl put a tiny hand in Clara’s.

“Thank you,” she said, “You saved my mommy and daddy from the bad man.”

“We were fighting,” her mother said, “Both of us thought Marie was with the other, safe.”

“You’re a mage?” Clara asked. The woman nodded.

“We met in the Circle,” the father said, “We fell in love but we couldn’t do anything. When the Circles rebelled, we escaped together, rather than see Marie taken away from us.”

“We will keep you in our prayers for the rest of our lives, Lady Herald,” the mother said, tears on her cheeks as her daughter came back to her arms. 

“I was glad to do it,” Clara said, handing the now empty bowl back to them, “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“We’ll let you sleep, my lady,” the mother said. Cullen eased Clara back down. She felt her insides slowly begin to relax and, after ten minutes, which felt like an eternity to Clara, she began to feel warmer. The pain lessened by inches, but she couldn’t stop shivering. Cullen held her tighter and Clara rested against his chest. She could hear the steady thump of his heart. Inwardly, she realized she was nearly naked next to the man, the first time she had ever been so. But she was far too cold and too tired to let it bother her. Cullen’s body was hot and his hands were gentle as he stroked her hair. Clara yawned and Cullen was glad to see her cheeks growing pink again.

“Try to sleep,” he said, “I promise I’ll be close by.”

Clara sighed deeply and was soon asleep. Cullen stayed next to her, watching her breathe deeply. He let the tears fall now, so relieved she was alive and that he could feel her near him again. 

“When did she become so important to me?” he thought. When he had first seen her, he had been consumed by grief over the death of the Divine. But he was not willing to accept that she had been the murderer. But she had still been there, the only survivor. He had been harsh with her at their first meeting, he knew. But he had also been impressed. Now, after seeing her accomplish so much in the service of the people, he was finding he respected her, admired her. She inhaled deeply. She was so young, perhaps ten years younger than himself. And she was a mage. Despite his admiration, his Templar training would not let him forget that basic fact. And yet, there was so much about her that broke the picture the Chantry had painted of a mage. Clara stirred in her sleep.

“Philip,” she whispered. Cullen smiled. Her brother had not been recovered from the mountain. She had not given up that he was alive.

“I will protect you,” Cullen said, “I swear unto the Maker that you will always be safe.”


	2. From the Ashes Part One - Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy but fear the sword, like me, he'll scarcely look on't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Inquisition arrive at Skyhold and the strain of everything that has happened finally catches up with Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

From the Ashes, Part One - Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy but fear the sword, like me, he'll scarcely look on't

 

Skyhold was truly magnificent. From far away, it had been intimidating, but to actually stand in the center of it, Clara was overcome with the size and stature of it.

“Inquisitor.”

Clara gave a nod to the soldier. He was one of at least twenty members of the Inquisition that had greeted her as she strolled the battlements. Ever since she had accepted the position as leader of the Inquisition, she hadn’t been able to go anywhere in Skyhold without someone greeting her. She felt self-conscious as she walked out into the open courtyard. The rough leather garments that Josephine had managed to find for her fit her, but it was uncomfortable. She wouldn’t complain though; some people had nothing except the clothes on their back. She left the battlements and walked across the courtyard. She saw Cassandra training as usual.

“Cassandra,” Clara said. Cassandra looked up.

“Inquisitor,” she said, “Are you well?” Clara nodded.

“Doing about as well as can be expected,” she said.

“You have surpassed our expectations,” Cassandra said, “You have become a symbol of hope to these people.”

Clara nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. Cassandra handed her a warm blanket.

“You seem cold still,” she said, “Perhaps you should sit by the fire. Perhaps you can get a bit more out of Varric about this friend you are to meet.”

“Do you have any thoughts about who it could be?” Clara asked. Cassandra frowned.

“I have one idea,” she replied, “But for his sake, it had better not be.”

Clara watched Cassandra stalk off. She did not envy the dwarf if Cassandra was right. Leliana had said that Cassandra would kill Varric if the friend turned out to be who they all thought. But Clara couldn’t begin to guess. Her head was abuzz with all the information she had taken in. For the three days they had trekked through the mountains, Clara had been brought up to speed on not only the fate of Haven but the other people who hadn’t gotten out. Clara’s heart broke when she learned how many people had died at the hands of Corypheus’ red templars. It seemed that she saw every missing person walking about the courtyard. It had been hard to face them, even though no one blamed her.

“Maker, you’re a mess,” Vivienne said. Clara looked up from her thoughts as she passed the First Enchanter.

“You look dreadful,” she said, “Were you hurt? Are you well?”

“Apart from having nearly frozen to death,” Clara said, “I’m doing well. How about you?”

“Well, all things considered,” Vivienne said, “I’m glad. You seem to be bearing things well. Good, the troops will take their cues from you.”

Vivienne looked her over critically. Clara clutched the blanket tighter.

“We must do something to clean you up,” she said, “You still need to keep up appearances.”

“Josephine has requested more clothes for me,” Clara said, “I’m hoping that there’ll be enough material shipped in for everyone.”

“You have a large heart, my dear,” Vivienne said, “You proved that when you saved as many people as you did.”

“But I didn’t save them all,” Clara said, finally voicing her regret aloud, “I failed so many.”

Vivienne put a comforting hand on Clara’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

“You haven’t failed anyone, my dear,” she said, “You accept responsibility willingly, but you shouldn’t accept more than is due you. As a leader, you need to learn from mistakes and grow, not let them destroy you.”

Clara nodded and sighed. Vivienne eyed her appraisingly.

“Are you quite well, my dear?” she asked. Clara nodded.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Clara replied, “I have to ask Cullen a question and then I think I’ll relax for a little while by the fire. Maybe I haven’t completely thawed out yet.”

Vivienne gave an appreciative laugh and Clara nodded to her. She headed down to the lower part of the courtyard, where the stables and the infirmary were positioned. At the bottom of the stairs, Cullen was holding council with his officers.

“Reports are coming in,” one of the officers said. Clara noted the accent of Starkhaven, “We’ve had several offers of aid from both Free March and Nevarran military. But Nevarra is also at odds with Tevinter, so they’re already stretched thin with resources.”

“We’ll do what we can in the meantime,” Cullen said. Another soldier approached. A young man among the first from the residents of Haven to join the Inquisition. Clara seemed to recall his name being Jim.

“Ser,” Jim said, “Soldiers have been assigned temporary housing.”

“Good,” Cullen said, taking the report, “I’ll need an update on the armory as well.”

Jim stared at the table, trying to reach an itch under his armor. Cullen rolled his eyes.

“Now!” he snapped. Jim blinked and saluted. Clara shook her head as the man hurried away. She strolled over towards Cullen. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness struck her and she clutched her head. She focused on her breathing and the dizziness subsided. But she felt much colder now and pulled the blanket tighter. Cullen glanced around as she approached and nodded.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Clara nodded.

“I’m fine,” she said, “Tired mostly, but three days of mountain hiking will do that.” She laughed, trying to ignore the aches in her body. She was getting sick and she knew it, but she had to push past it. Too many people needed her.

“It was hard,” he said, “But we managed. I’m more worried about you. Haven was no fortress. We weren’t prepared for such an assault. With some warning, we might have…”

“Do you ever sleep?” Clara asked. Cullen shook his head.

“There’s so much to do,” he said, “If Corypheus strikes again, we cannot withdraw. Nor would I want to.”

“I agree,” Clara said, “I’m quite sure I don’t want another retreat through the mountains any time soon.” Clara had a sudden coughing fit and she felt her chest tighten painfully. Cullen looked up at her curiously. Clara waved him off.

“Just a tickle,” she said. Cullen looked back at his reports.

“Work on Skyhold is underway,” he said, “Guard rotations in place, watchtowers manned; we should have everything on course within the week.”

Cullen looked up at her and straightened his back proudly.

“We will not run from here, Inquisitor,” he said. Clara nodded in agreement.

“Inquisitor Trevelyan,” she said, “It sounds odd, doesn’t it? I mean, to have a title at all as a mage.”

“Not at all,” Cullen said. Clara raised a brow.

“Is that the official response?” she asked. Cullen chuckled.

“I suppose it is,” he said, “But it’s no less true. We needed a leader and you have proven yourself.”

Clara blushed. For a time, they were both engrossed in the reports. Finally, Clara touched Cullen’s hand.

“How many were lost in Haven?” she asked.

“Most of our people made it to Skyhold,” he said.

“But not all?” Clara asked. Cullen shook his head sadly. Clara bowed her head.

“It could have been worse,” Cullen said, “Chancellor Roderick path proved to be our salvation. And you…” Cullen trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“I understand,” she said, “Our escape from Haven was close. I’m relieved that you--that so many made it out alive.” Clara looked away, hoping that Cullen hadn’t noticed the slip.

“As am I,” Cullen said. He fell into an awkward silence and Clara nodded, turning to walk away. Cullen grabbed her hand.

“You stayed behind,” Cullen said softly, “You could have...I will not allow the events of Haven to happen again. I promise.”

And Clara believed him wholeheartedly. His grip on her hand was strong and she looked down at them. Quickly, Cullen released her hand.

“I should return to my duties,” Clara said. Cullen nodded.

“As should I,” he said.

Clara wandered aimlessly for some time. Her body was aching and she could hardly get close enough to the braziers for warmth. She had just begun to think that perhaps she should see the healers when she heard arguing.

“It has to go!” Vivienne was shouting at Solas. Cassandra seemed to be playing referee, although Solas, for his part, was just as calm as he’d been when he’d talked about the orb Corypheus had.

“Cole is not an ‘it’,” Solas said reasonably.

“This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet,” Vivienne said, trying to regain her composure, “It has no business being here.”

“Would you not say the same of an apostate?” Solas said. Vivienne glared coldly at him, evidently thinking that very idea.

“What’s going on?” Clara asked. Cassandra

“We’re discussing Cole,” Cassandra said, “I wondered if perhaps the young man was a mage; he does have unusual abilities.”

“He can cause people to forget him, or even fail to notice him at all,” Solas said, “A covetous ability for most apostates, but not one that any mage could hope to achieve. Cole is a spirit.”

“ ‘It’ is a demon,” Vivienne said.

“If you prefer, although the truth is more complex,” Solas said patiently. Clara’s head was buzzing and the argument was not helping.

“How complex?” Clara said and even she could not fail to notice how weak her voice sounded.

“Solas may call it whatever he likes,” Vivienne said, “But it is still a threat and must leave.” Solas ignored her.

“Fairly complex,” he said, “Demons normally enter this world through possession, otherwise, they look monstrous to our eyes. But Cole is not possessing anyone. He has manifested as you see him. He looks and sounds like a young man; for all intents and purposes, he is a young man.”

“Is that possible?” Cassandra asked.

“It would appear so,” Solas answered. He looked at Clara. She did her best to hide the shivers.

“Cole is unique, Inquisitor,” Solas said, “He only wishes to help. I suggest we let him do so.”

“And my opinion is that every moment that he remains, he becomes a greater threat to all magic users here.”

Clara sighed.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said. Looking around, she saw no sign of the young man. At first, she worried that he had vanished or had made them all forget. Then she saw him walking among the injured. She moved over to the infirmary as quickly as she could. The fever was slowly climbing. She could only hope that she could deal with this new issue quickly and get to a bed before she collapsed. Clara approached cautiously, not fully prepared to trust the young man. He had been helpful, getting to them to tell them of their enemy, but her years in the Circle still made her wary.

“Haven,” Cole whispered. Clara was surprised to hear the tenderness in his voice.

“So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape,” Cole continued. Clara winced as she remembered the soldiers fighting the Red Templars, falling under the sword of the massive creatures corrupted by red lyrium.

Cole went silent, cocking his head slightly.

“Choking fear,” he said, “Can’t think straight from the medicine. But the pain cuts with each breath.”

Clara watched him in awe.

“White hot pain,” Cole said, looking at his hands, “Everything burns. I can’t...I can’t...I’m dying...I’m…”

Cole reached out towards a soldier lying by the fire. He gave a gasp and was still.

“Dead,” said Cole with a sad tone of finality.

Clara looked at the soldier and then Cole.

“You can feel their pain?” she asked.

“It’s louder this close,” he said, “With so many of them, it’s like shouting.”

Cole drifted off and Clara followed, still feeling wary and even dizzier. She could hardly see straight.

“Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?” she asked timidly. Cole turned back to look at her. He smiled warmly and Clara smiled back.

“Yes,” he said, “But here is where I can help.”

Cole looked behind him quickly.

“Each breath getting slower,” he said, listening intently. Clara looked at where he was staring. A soldier was laying softly in the grass, his face a peaceful mask.

“Like lying in a warm bath, sliding away,” Cole said, his face matching the peaceful expression, “Smell of my daughter’s hair when I kiss her goodnight.”

Clara nearly broke down as she watched the man’s head fall to one side.

“Gone,” Cole said, his tone flat again. Clara felt tears on her cheeks. She tried to tell herself that casualties were a part of a war, that men, good and bad died. But when she saw such a loving face, sleeping eternally, a face that was reflected on a little girl somewhere, Clara felt her heart nearly break.

“It’s good,” Cole said, his long fingers reaching to wipe back the tears, “You care about people.”

“I let so many down,” Clara said, “If only I’d been able to…” She trailed off, unsure of what she was thinking.

“You helped them escape,” Cole said. He looked at her for a moment.

“Blazing, burning, head full of pain,” Cole said, “You need help.”

“I-I’m fine,” Clara said. She wanted to escape, to find a place where she could lie down and rest.

“Cole,” she said, “You’re a spirit, a demon, but you’re using your powers to help people.”

“Yes,” Cole said, sounding hesitant, “I used to think I was a ghost. I didn’t know what I was. I made mistakes, but I also made friends.”

Cole looked into Clara’s eyes and she felt as though he were reading her mind.

“A Templar proved I wasn’t real,” Cole said, “I lost my friends, lost everything. I learned how to be more like what I am. I was different, but I was also stronger. I wanted to help.”

“If you stay,” Clara said, “Will you help?”

“Yes,” Cole said, “I want to stay. I want to help.”

Clara nodded and swayed. Cole caught her in his thin arms.

“Body hot, hurting, cold down to the bone,” Cole said, “I’ll help.”

Clara stared into the boy’s pale blue eyes before blackness took over and she knew no more.

 

***

Cullen heard the shout. He looked over at the infirmary to see the young boy, Cole holding Clara’s unconscious body in his arms.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen shouted and ran over to them. Cole gently eased her to the ground as Cullen joined them. He touched her forehead and pulled back immediately. She was burning up.

“What happened?” he asked Cole. Cole jumped back in fear. Cullen scooped her up and called for the healers to join him in the Inquisitor’s quarters. He carried her down the main hall and opened a door just off the dais where Josephine intended to place the throne of the Inquisition. The room set aside for Clara was larger than the rest, a sign of her position as Inquisitor. He reached the room and found workers clearing away timbers. The bed from the last occupants was still standing, but no blankets or mattress had survived.

“Use some of those broken beams to start a fire,” Cullen said quickly, The workers immediately did as instructed and soon had a fire blazing. The healers arrived with blankets. Cullen sat by the fire and held her.

“We need this place cleaned and warm,” an elderly healer said, “Can one of you go and fetch Lady Montilyet?”

“Can we get anything for her to rest on?” Cullen asked. One of the workers nodded.

“We’ve got some straw, we’ll make up a bed,” he said.

Five workers tore down the stairs and returned with straw and a younger healer hurried off to fetch Josephine. Cullen carried Clara over to the bed and covered her with the blankets and furs. The workers quickly began to clear away the timbers and soon the room was bare.

“Cullen, what happened?” Josephine said, coming up the stairs, her hair out of its usual updo.

“She’s ill,” the healer said, “The shock from the battle at Haven, exposure to the elements, and exhaustion from our journeying three days to Skyhold. Her body finally has given out.”

“She didn’t rest?” Josephine asked. Cullen was equally confused.

“She had dreams,” Cole said. Everyone jumped in surprise. Cullen marched over to Cole, who back away quickly. Cullen stopped. The boy was afraid of him. Cullen took a deep breath and looked at Cole.

“What dreams?” he asked softly. Cole nervously approached closer.

“Biting, clawing, tearing,” Cole whispered, “I can’t let him find me. He’ll see me. He’ll take me away. Dark. It’s so dark. I want to go home.”

Cullen looked back at Clara’s prone figure. The healers were applying poultices to her body.

“Dreams of the Circles,” Cole said, “Dreams of the Elder One. Dreams of demons and the dead. She blames herself for the dead dying.”

Cullen knelt next to Clara’s, who was moaning softly in her sleep. Then she let out a cry.

“Philip!”

Cullen stroked her cheek.

“Inquisitor, can you hear me?” Cullen whispered. Clara stirred in her sleep but didn’t open her eyes.

“Oh, Clara,” Cullen thought, “Where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of my success at my workshop AND the news that I can go back to my full-time teaching job, I have uploaded this chapter. 
> 
> The last book had title chapters with song titles. This book will have chapter titles with quotes from Shakespeare plays or sonnets. The third book will probably have chapter titles that are also unique.
> 
> Now, I have already finished several chapters, but as I write, I edit completed chapters and upload them. Because I'll be teaching again, I plan to do weekly updates to this book, uploading once a week. But if I have time, I'll upload more than one. I'm just making sure that you know I'll update every week at least.


	3. Interlude: But felt a fever of the mad and played some tricks of desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara has a reunion and a chance for happiness in the life she has always wanted. But does she want it anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: But felt a fever of the mad and played some tricks of desperation

 

Clara sat up with a start. She had been dreaming about….what was her dream? It was fading as rapidly as mist.

“You’re awake,” Cassandra said. Clara looked around. She was in her room in the Chantry at Haven.

“Cassandra,” she said, “I was...dreaming.”

“What about?”

Clara closed her eyes, trying to will the dream back.

“I can’t really remember,” she said, “It’s strange. I feel like I’ve traveled to the ends of Thedas.”

“You haven’t left your room since you closed the Breach,” Cassandra said. Clara nodded.

“So the Breach is closed?” Clara asked. 

“Solas reports that the skies are scarred, but calm,” Cassandra said. 

“Deja vu,” Clara said. Cassandra smiled.

“And I have more good news for you,” she said. She stood up and went to the door, “She’s awake now.”

Clara looked at the door as a young man came through the door. He was around her age, dressed in templar armor. His eyes were the same brown as his Nevarran mother’s, but he had the red hair of her and their father.

“Philip,” Clara said softly. She leaped from the bed and ran across the room to throw her arms around her stepbrother, weeping great tears.

“Clara,” Philip said warmly, “I am so glad to see you.”

Clara hugged him tightly, afraid that he would disappear if she let go. 

“Where have you been?” she asked. Philip pulled her to arm's length.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I tried to get to the Conclave to meet with you but we were late. I was almost on the steps of the Temple when it exploded. I got caught up in the chaos and ended up lost in the mountains.”

“How did you find us?” Clara asked. Philip pointed to Cassandra.

“She found me.”

Cassandra nodded.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she said and left the room. Clara sat back down on her bed and put her head in her hands.

“Are you okay?” Philip asked. Clara nodded.

“Have you seen Father at all?” he asked. Clara shook her head. Philip sighed sadly. Clara took his hand in hers.

“I knew I would see you again,” she said, “It just feels so overwhelming after all I’ve been through.  
“Tell me about it,” Philip said, “Lady Pentaghast said you were the Herald of Andraste. Imagine that.” He began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Clara asked.

“I’m just picturing the look on Mother’s face,” Philip said. The picture swam into Clara’s mind as well and she joined in the laughter until her eyes watered and she was gasping for breath.

“I’ll have to leave in a few days,” Philip said, “Tomas and Mother will have probably declared me dead.”

Clara nodded. With the Breach closed, she wasn’t sure what would happen to her now.

“Do you want to come with me?” Philip asked. Clara looked at him in surprise.

“Go with you?” she asked, “You mean, go home?”

Philip nodded. To say she was shocked would be an understatement.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Philip said, “But I promise that I won’t let Mother harass you. You’ll be under my protection as a Templar.”

Clara looked at him in dismay. He blushed.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” he said, “I meant that I will protect you, in the same way, I would as a Templar. That means protecting you from the things that would hurt you. It’ll be different. You’ll be free to come and go as you want.”

“Tomas won’t allow that and you know it,” Clara said. Philip grabbed her shoulders.

“Then we’ll leave,” he said, “We’ve got other relatives. Great-Aunt Lucille was always a bit of a black sheep. We could stay with her.”

“It’s not that,” Clara said, “I’m just not sure what happens next. Yes, the Breach is closed, but does that mean they don’t need me anymore. I need to talk to my advisors.”

Philip looked at her thoughtfully.

“And if you’re job does turn out to be finished?” he asked. Clara didn’t answer and Philip placed a comforting hand on her head.

“Take some time to think it over,” he said, “I won’t be leaving for a few days.”

He rose and walked to the door. As he opened it, he glanced back.

“I meant what I said, Clara,” he said, “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

Clara smiled at him. He words sounded so comforting and calming. Perhaps it was just because they were both Templars, but she felt that Cullen had said the same thing at one point. But she couldn’t think of when it was. Cullen’s face floated into view. Closing the Breach meant that she might have to say goodbye to Cullen. She had become very fond of the older man in their time together. She often wondered if she had projected her feelings of longing for Philip onto Cullen, and yet, she could recall the ways that her heart had fluttered in her chest when he would laugh or smile. That was not something one felt for a brother. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” she thought, “How could he think of a mage as anything more?”

“And why would you even want him to?” a voice whispered in the back of her mind.

 

***

Cullen watched as Clara lay wrapped in the warm furs and blankets. She was panting for breath. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes flickered constantly under her long lashes. Cullen wet the cloth from the bedside basin again and laid it across her forehead. 

“The fever’s no longer climbing,” the healer had said, “But if it doesn’t break soon, we may need to try more drastic treatments.”

For a week, Cullen had practically lived in the room with Clara. He trained the troops and attended the Council meetings, but in the evenings, he returned to Clara’s room. He’d had a desk moved in and more furniture had been secured for her room. Josephine had also arranged for a more appropriate bed for her room; a feather bed with silk sheets and gauzy curtains hanging from an ornate canopy. But the bed could not be brought in until Clara was awake. The straw mattress and furs could be disposed of easier than silk should her condition become more serious. Dorian had also been frequenting the room, concern for his cousin evident on his face. When he was not in the room, he was in the library, looking for information about Corypheus.

“I want to make sure I have as much information as possible for Clara when she awakes,” he said. But a week had gone by without much improvement. Iron Bull had finally arranged for his company healer to visit Clara. With permission of the healers and under the watchful eyes of Dorian and Cullen, the man Iron Bull called “Stitches” examined Clara’s body and found a deep cut on the back of her leg. It hadn’t been noticed before because of bruising and her broken ribs, nor had it pained her as she walked. Stitches applied a poultice and a potion that he swore by.

“The one thing she needs now is rest,” Stitches said, “And time. Just try to keep her cool and comfortable.”

Cullen nodded and Stitches left. Iron Bull sat down beside the bed and looked at Clara’s sleeping form for a while.

“She really is young, isn’t she?” he observed. Cullen looked at the Qunari.

“Yes,” he said, wondering where he was going.

“The Qunari don’t pick leaders by who’s the biggest, the strongest, or even the most educated,” Iron Bull said, “We pick the leaders by who is willing to make the tough decisions. It seems kind of unfair that this girl should have to make those kinds of calls when she’s so young.”

Cullen looked at Clara thoughtfully. He had wondered how young she was before, but asleep now, she looked barely a girl. Her long red hair hung limply from the fever and her skin seemed tight and dry. He raised a cup to her lips to get some water into her.

“Why?” she whispered. Cullen watched as a few tears slipped from her eyes down her cheeks. 

“I can’t stand this,” Dorian said, “It feels like she’s leagues away from us and drifting further.” He stormed out onto the balcony and gripped the railing. Iron Bull looked after him with interest.

“Never seen a Vint with so much compassion,” he said quietly to Cullen.

Cullen said nothing. He looked up at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Solas appeared 

“How is the Inquisitor?” he asked. He did not wait for an answer, but came over and sat at the end of the bed, something even Cullen had not dared to do. Solas stretched out a hand and closed his eyes. After a moment, he drew it back.

“She is in the Fade,” he said. Cullen stared at him.

“What do you mean ‘in the Fade’?” Dorian asked.

“It is much like the Harrowing mages face in the Circles,” Solas replied, “Her fever has pulled her into a deep sleep and she is now in the Fade.”

“Her illness will make her vulnerable there,” Cullen said, feeling panic start to sweep through his veins like ice. Solas nodded.

“So what do we do?” Dorian snapped. Solas looked up thoughtfully.

“We go into the Fade,” he said at last, “Or at least, someone with magical abilities goes into the Fade. And I believe I know exactly where she is right now.”

 

***

 

Clara felt like she was living a new life. With her success of closing the Breach, she was hailed as a hero across Thedas. And she saw that same new vitality in those she had seen join the Inquisition. Sera was thrilled to see demons gone and was able to return to her Red Jenny missions. Vivienne also returned to Val Royeaux, pleased that she had been on the front lines of battle. All her companions were getting back to the lives that had been halted by the Conclave and its explosion. Yet for all the joy and happiness Clara could see around her, something felt missing. She sat in one of the War Room meetings, staring at something a thousand miles away.

“Herald!” Cullen’s shout pulled Clara back to the present.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “What were you saying?”

“I was asking you if you’ve been able to consider the proposals of the mages and Templars?”

Clara glanced down at the reports from Fiona and Philip, who had taken up a role of leadership with the Templars that had joined the Inquisition. The proposals were for the future of the Circles. They had taken the suggestion Clara had made; that the circles be more self-governing, working alongside Templars and serving within certain agencies. There was still the concern of mages being vulnerable to possession but several mages and Templars had agreed that lessons of men like Anders should be set as an example and young mages could be better prepared for facing demons in future.

“These proposals all look fair,” Clara said, “I think Fiona and Philip have put a great deal of thought into this and considered all points of the issue.”

“Divine Justinia hoped for this,” Leliana said, “Perhaps from this small start, the remaining Templars will join the change.”

Clara nodded. She handed the reports to Cullen, who seemed unusually irritable

“Then I suppose we are adjourned,” Josephine said, “Lady Trevelyan, there are several dignitaries from Denerim who wish to speak with you when you have a moment.”

“Of course,” Clara said, “I’ll be there momentarily.”

The two women left, but Cullen stayed at the table.

“Cullen, are you angry with me?” Clara asked nervously. The commander looked up with stormy eyes.

“Nowhere in these proposals is there any addressing of what happens when mages do become possessed,” he said. Clara lowered her gaze.

“Does it need to be written down?” she asked softly. There was no way to ensure that no mage would become possessed. And that was one thing that Templars and especially gifted mages would be burdened with handling. 

“Magic is dangerous if there are no boundaries,” Cullen said coldly, “You have no idea…”

“ ‘I have no idea’?” Clara asked, feeling her face get hot, “I know exactly how it feels to stare into the face of a demon who could possess me. I know what my magic can leave me open to and I respect that power.”

“If you respect it so much, why are you so against the Circles?” Cullen asked, “Mages are protected in the Circles, kept safe from people who would abuse them and prevented from hurting other people with their magic.”

“What about the good we can do with our magic?” Clara said, “We can heal, defend, contribute to ruling nations.”

“So you want to rule?” Cullen asked. Clara stared in disbelief.

“I never said that,” Clara said, “But maybe Tevinter isn’t completely wrong about how mages can help to govern.”

“ ‘Magic exists to serve man and not rule over him’,” Cullen recited.

“I know the Chant of Light as well as you,” Clara said, “But magic shouldn’t be locked up and hidden away either.”

Clara and Cullen glared at each other until a knock on the door distracted them. Philip was standing in the doorway, looking between them nervously.

“Um, is everything alright?” he asked.

Cullen shot a disapproving look at him and then looked at Clara.

“Just fine,” he said, “Lady Trevelyan and I were just finishing. Excuse me.”

He stalked out of the room, leaving Clara staring after him.

“Why?” she whispered. She felt the tears gathering in her eyes. She stormed out of the Chantry and wandered around Haven until she stopped at the overlook by the bridge. She was angry with Cullen, even more so than when they’d disagreed about alliances between Templars or mages. This time, it felt like something was cut off between them. She had begun to hope that maybe he would be part of her life in a deeper way, but he seemed to be too focused on his prejudices. 

“Clara, are you alright?” Philip said as he climbed up to join Clara. Clara nodded.

“I think my decision is being made for me,” she said, “I won’t have a purpose with the Inquisition once the mages and Templars achieve a truce.”

Philip looked at her in delight.

“So does that mean you’re going to come home with me?” he asked. Clara sighed. Philip took her by the shoulders.

“Clara, you’ve got a chance now for some peace and serenity in your life,” he said, “Why would you want to stay someplace that gives you such much misery.”

“It hasn’t all be miserable,” Clara said, “I’ve made some good friends here. And I’ve learned how to defend myself and I even learned a bit about my mother’s culture.”

“You mean the elves?” Philip asked. Clara nodded.

“The people here have done such important things,” she said, “And I was glad to have been part of that.”

“But now they don’t seem to need you,” Philip said, “They seem to all be going back to their lives. Shouldn’t we do the same?”

Clara considered everything he said. Philip held out a hand.

“Take my hand,” he said, “Let’s go together.”

Clara looked at his hand and extended her own.

“Stop!” 

Clara whirled around to see Solas standing on the bridge. 

“Solas!” Clara said, “What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you for days now.”

“You must come with me,” Solas said, “We have to leave this place.”

“Leave?” Clara asked, “Why?”

Solas seemed to float across the bridge until he was standing in front of her.

“Think back,” he said, “Where are we now?”

“We’re at Haven,” Clara said, “Have you been in Flissa’s with Varric?”

Even as she said so, a smell filled her nose; a hot, smokey smell that seemed familiar.

“Haven will always be important to you,” Solas said, “But it suffered at the hands of a great evil. And you, Inquisitor, rose up to face that evil.”

Clara was speechless. In her mind’s eyes, she saw Haven burning, saw the twisted creature grab her arm, trying to crush it and her to remove the mark. But she had come past that.

“Clara, who is this person?” Philip asked. Clara touched a hand to her head and felt it come away hot. Philip’s voice seemed distant and the world around her seemed to run like watercolors.

“Solas,” Clara said, “I dreamed a few days ago that we were in a castle above the clouds. I couldn’t remember it until just now. But it wasn’t a dream.”

“No, Inquisitor,” Solas said. Clara remembered the feeling of the heavy sword in her hand as she hefted it above her head. She remembered the shouts of her name and her new title echo on the ancient stones of the mountain fortress. She rubbed her head as the ache and pain began to fill her mind and body. Solas looked at her sadly. Then he looked at Philip.

“I can understand you wanting to help her,” Solas said, “But the serenity you want to give her cannot be false. Surely you see that now is not the time to pull her away.”

Clara looked at Philip. There was something off about him now. Philip looked down at her sadly.

“I only wanted you to be happy,” he said, “I thought that maybe if you got back your life with your loved ones, you might have that peace you needed.”

“You’re not Philip, are you,” Clara said. Philip shook his head. His form gradually coalesced and shifted into a soft blue shade, not unlike a wraith. But she felt no evil from him, only gentle concern.

“Is my brother dead?” Clara asked. The shade hesitated and then answered in a voice that seemed to be full of every sadness known to the world.

“I saw the shape of the man you called Philip travel through the Fade to the city of your Maker. He had only one thought; that his sister would be unprotected and full of strife. I wished to do the courtesy of preventing that.”

Clara sank to her knees, not bothering to hide the tears now.

“Deep down, I think I knew he was gone,” she wept, “But I didn’t want to believe it.”

Solas placed a hand on her shoulder and she began to shake with silent sobs. Solas looked up at the spirit that had been Philip.

“She is ill in our world,” he said, “She must return and complete the task given to her.”

The spirit did not answer. Instead, it lowered itself to the ground beside Clara.

“I am sorry, little one,” it said, “But please know that your brother is at peace. I only wished the same for you, as he did.”

Clara nodded. She looked up at the spirit without anger or hate.

“I need to go,” Clara said, “If you see my brother again, tell him I love him.”

The spirit blinked and was gone. Clara gave a shaky sigh and stood up. Solas held out his arm.

“This all felt so real,” Clara said, “When I went through my Harrowing, the Fade didn’t look like this. I would never have thought it could look so real.”

“The Fade is the will and dreams of many peoples in the world,” Solas said, “The spirits here take their forms from the people they encounter, whether in a dream or in magic. But that does not make it any less real. It is a matter of perspective. But probably best discussed when you wake up.”

 

***

Clara’s eyes opened. She was laying under warm blankets. Beside her, holding her hand was Cullen. He lay asleep with his head on her bed. She thought of her encounter with Cullen in Haven in her dream. Gingerly, she squeezed his hand. Cullen’s eyes opened and he smiled at her.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice a whisper. He touched his cool fingers to her forehead, “Thank the Maker, your fever seems to have broken.”

Clara knew at once this was the real Cullen, the one who had been supportive of her decisions, even if he disagreed. This was the one who had defended her in Haven the one who had dug her up from the snow in the mountains and shared his body heat with her. This was the same Cullen who always spoke to her in the soft voice that made her heart skip.

“I’m so thirsty,” Clara said, her voice scratchy. Cullen poured a glass of water and helped her drink slowly.

“How long was I asleep?” Clara asked.

“A week,” Cullen said, “I’ll let the others know you’ve awoken, but you should probably try to sleep a bit more.”

“I think I can manage that,” Clara said, her eyes drifting closed again. She squeezed his hand tightly.

“Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?” she asked. Cullen smiled and nodded.

“Of course,” he said, “Whatever my lady wishes.”

Clara fell asleep again quickly, and she dreamed no dreams. Cullen watched her as she slept. He glanced out onto the balcony where Solas stood quietly, breathing in the deep, cool mountain air. He released her hand and went out to him.

“Was she someplace safe in the Fade?” he asked. Solas nodded.

“It is not often a mage experiences a second Harrowing,” he said, “This one may have gone poorly had we not intervened.”

“Not possession?” Cullen asked. Solas shook his head.

“No, she was never in any danger of that,” he said, “But her heart aches with the pains of her encounters. Her compassion seemed to draw the spirits to her and they wished to keep her with them.”

Cullen had never thought about a mage being drawn into the Fade. All the spirits he encountered seemed determined to escape.

“She will need to rest for a time,” Solas said, “Not only for her physical health but also her mental and spiritual health. And I believe that she will come through stronger than before.

Solas walked down the stairs. Cullen began to follow him, then decided against it. He sent a messenger to Josephine and Leliana that Clara had finally awoken from her fever and was now sleeping naturally. Then he said down beside her bed again and waited, thinking about what qualities would draw a spirit to a person.


	4. From the Ashes Part Two - Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara recovers her strength and meets with Varric's friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

From the Ashes Part Two - Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

 

Clara wasn’t able to get out of bed for a week; she had a constant headache and it made her too dizzy to sit up. She lay back against the pillows. Cullen continued to spend his evenings working at her desk, but for the days, she was by herself. Her companions came to visit her, but she wasn’t up to long visits. One morning, Clara woke up feeling the dizziness gone at last. 

“Excellent timing,” Vivienne said, “You’ve become much too thin, my dear. And we have something for you.”

A loud clanging came up the stairs and Clara clutched her head.

“Iron Bull,” Vivienne snapped, “Do try to be a bit more careful.”

Iron Bull came around the corner, carrying a heavy wash basin full of water.

“You could have waited to fill this before I had to bring it up,” Iron Bull grumbled. Vivienne raised a thin brow. Iron Bull ducked his head.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Iron Bull said and set the basin down. With a flick of her wrist, Vivienne sent a small fireball against the basin and heated the water to a comfortable temperature.

“A bath,” Clara sighed longingly. Vivienne nodded.

“Lady Montilyet thought you might feel that way,” she said, “And some new clothes have arrived for you so you won’t have to wear that ridiculous looking ensemble now.”

Clara slowly sat up and stepped out of bed for the first time in over a week. She swayed slightly and nearly fell as her feet touched the cold stone. Iron Bull quickly caught her.

“You okay, Boss?” he asked. Clara nodded. She looked up into his one eye and saw something flicker there. He opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to change his mind, Instead, Iron Bull helped her the rest of the way to the tub.

“I’ll take it from here, darling,” Vivienne said. Iron Bull let go of Clara’s arm and Vivienne helped Clara behind the screen to undress. Her eyes widened as she looked at Clara’s body. She could count each rib and see the bones of her shoulders.

“We’ll have to get some food in you, my dear,” Vivienne said kindly. Clara slowly climbed into the tub and hissed as the heated water touched her skin.

“Too hot?” Vivienne asked. Clara shook her head.

“It feels good,” she said, “It’s just intense on my muscles.”

Vivienne stayed nearby as Clara bathed and washed her hair. The hot water seemed to rejuvenate her. When she finished, Clara dressed in green woolen pants and a long white tunic. Vivienne helped her brush and braid her hair. The sound of footsteps on the stairs caught her attention and the familiar stocky form of Varric appeared in her room. He looked tired but smiled when he saw her sitting up.

“Great, you’re awake,” Varric said, “If you’re up to it, my friend is here and is waiting to talk to you.”

Clara nodded and stood up. She felt no dizziness and she smiled. 

“I’ll see that this tub gets returned,” Vivienne said, “Iron Bull will have an easier time with it being empty.”

Clara shook her head, picturing the Qunari’s face when he was given the order. Varric stayed close to Clara as she walked down the stairs. As she entered the main hall, she saw the amount of work that had been done for the castle fortress.

“It’s amazing,” Clara said, “How much has been done in such a short amount of time?”

“Everyone was especially motivated,” Varric said. She followed him out to the battlements.

“Where exactly are we going?” Clara asked. Varric didn’t answer. And after a moment, he didn’t need to. Standing on the battlements was a man Clara had only heard rumors of.

“Inquisitor Trevelyan,” Varric said with a smile, “Meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.”

Clara stared in awe. Hawke was tall, muscular, and fully armed. His bright blue eyes twinkled at her. His dark hair was unkempt and he was sporting a beard.

“Though, I don’t go by that title much anymore,” Hawke said. Clara put out a hand to shake it. Hawke took it and kissed it, surprising her.

“My mother always told me to respect the ladies,” Hawke said. Clara smiled at him and gave a curtsy. 

“I’ll let you two talk,” Varric said, “If you need anything, Robin, let me know.”

Hawke leaned against the battlements and Clara joined him. They looked out over the battlements. In the morning sun, everything looked fresh and clean.

“I used to have a view like this at my home in Kirkwall,” Hawke said, “It was nice at first, but then all I could see were the people depending on me.”

Clara nodded. 

“But then, I just had a city,” Hawke said, “You’ve got half of Thedas.”

Hawke turned to look at her.

“I heard you’d been sick,” he said, “I hope you’re feeling better now.”

“Starting to get there,” Clara said, “It’s not easy to have to recover knowing so many depend on me.”

“You’re doing all you can,” Hawke said. Clara sat down beside him on the floor.

“Does it ever get easier?” she asked. Hawke sat down next to her. He put a hand on her shoulder and Clara was surprised by the gentleness of it.

“I’ll let you know,” he said, “But I’m sure you have questions. I’ll try to answer as best I can.”

“What can you tell me about Corypheus?” Clara asked. Hawke sighed heavily.

“Only that the Grey Wardens had been holding him,” he replied, “And that he was able to use his connection to darkspawn to influence them.”

Hawke climbed back to his feet. Clara moved to stand as well, but Hawke waved a hand dismissively.

“If the Wardens have disappeared, he may still be controlling them,” Hawke said.

“If that’s true, can we reverse it?” Clara asked. 

“Possibly. But we’ll need more information.”

Hawke looked thoughtful. Then he gave a small smile.

“I have a friend in the Wardens,” he said, “He was investigating an unrelated matter for me. When we last spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. I’ve had no word from him in several months.”

“Do you think he’s disappeared too?” Clara asked.

“My last message from him was that he’d be hiding in a smuggler’s cave just outside of Crestwood Village.”

“Is he safe there?” Clara asked.

“As safe as could be expected,” Hawke said, “There’s really no way to know for sure how far Corypheus’ influence can spread.”

“You didn’t know Corypheus was back,” Clara said, “What were you having this friend of yours search for?”

“You’ve heard of red lyrium,” Hawke said, “The Templars in Kirkwall were being controlled by it. I wanted to find out more about it.”

“Thank you, Hawke,” Clara said, “This has been helpful.”

“This is as much for me as for you,” Hawke said, “I thought I’d killed Corypheus before. I’ll make sure of it this time.”

Clara nodded. She climbed to her feet and stumbled a little. Hawke held out a hand. Clara waved it off and stood up straight.

“I’ll meet you in Crestwood,” Hawke said. He turned to Varric.

“You,” he said, pointing, “Stay out of trouble. I’d suggest avoiding your Seeker Pentaghast.”

Varric grimaced. 

“I’ll let the council know to send agents to Crestwood to prepare,” Clara said, “If there are Venatori, demons or even corrupt Grey Wardens, we’ll know soon enough. Give me a few days to get ready. I’ll meet you in Crestwood at the end of the week.”

“I’ll see you there,” Hawke said, turning to leave. Clara caught his arm.

“What’s your Warden friend’s name?”

“His name is Alistair,” Hawke said.

 

***

Clara strolled about the fortress. Compared to her first few hours here, things had improved. There was a feeling of stability, of safety. There was food, shelter, medicine, even entertainment in the newly established Herald’s Rest Tavern. It felt like a community had begun, even as far out as the encampments of the soldiers in the valley below. Clara did feel bad that more people couldn’t stay in the place, but efforts were being made to build more for the soldiers beyond just tents and shacks. 

“Oi, Herald!”

Clara turned around to see Sera running out from the tavern. 

“Glad to see you up and about,” she said, “Listen, got a favor to ask. Nothing big, but you go to the war room a lot. You mind see if Commander Hard Ass would be willing take his toy soldiers on a little march.”

Clara looked at her suspiciously.

“Red Jenny business?” she asked. Sera shrugged.

“Nothin’ big,” she said, “Just need a big show of force to get a few little guys some peace and quiet. There’s a village in Verchiel that has two big tits fightin’ over it. And people are getting hurt.”

Clara nodded in understanding.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Clara said, “But we might have to wait until we get back from Crestwood.”

“What’s in Crestwood?” Sera asked.

“A possible lead,” Clara replied, “For the missing Grey Wardens and Corypheus.”

“The Grey Wardens, huh?” Sera said, “You know, when I lived in Denerim, seeing the Wardens was a mixed bag. They’re the heroes, but seeing them means the bad stuff is coming.”

Clara considered her words. She’d never met a Grey Warden before Blackwall; what she’d heard was shrouded in mystery and legend. 

“Thanks, Sera,” Clara said, “That gives me an idea. I’ll see you later.”

Sera smiled cheerfully as Clara hurried to the war room. As she opened Josephine’s office door, she collided with Cullen. The impact caused her to reel backward and she almost fell to the floor. Cullen’s arms caught her.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Clara nodded. Cullen helped her stand up again and smiled.

“I went to your room to let you know that we’ve received several messages about activity amongst the Venatori in Orlais,” Cullen said, “I admit, I was concerned when I didn’t see you there.”

“I went to meet Varric’s guest,” Clara said.

“Was it who we suspected? Leliana asked.

“If you suspected Hawke,” Clara said, “Then yes. He’s given us some information about Corypheus.”

Clara told them everything Hawke had shared with her. They listened closely until she’d finished. Cullen rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

“I met a Warden Alistair once,” Cullen said, “If this is the same Alistair, then you’ve nothing to fear from him.”

“Except for many MANY bad puns,” Leliana said. 

“Crestwood is just on the other side of Lake Calenhad,” Josephine said, “It’s only a few hours away.”

“I’d like to take Blackwall with me,” Clara said, “And Varric, although I think I’d better have a word with both he and Cassandra before we go.”

“I’ll send agents ahead to assess the situation,” Leliana said, “They’ll be in position by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there by the end of the week,” Clara said, “Cullen, could you stay a moment?”

Leliana and Josephine looked at each other and giggled. They hurried out and Cullen rubbed his neck. Clara took his hand.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said, “For staying with me while I was sick.”

“Of course,” Cullen said, “It was my pleasure to help, Inquisitor.”

“I have something else to ask,” Clara said, “A favor for Red Jenny.”

Cullen looked suspicious as Clara began to explain.

 

***

The sound of slamming wood echoed from the second floor of the armory. Clara quickly ran up the stairs just in time to see Cassandra take a swing at Varric.

“You knew where Hawke was this entire time,” Cassandra snarled, “And you deliberately kept it from us.”

“You’re damn right!” Varric shouted, “You kidnap me at knifepoint; I wasn’t going to tell you shit!”

Cassandra drew her sword.

“That’s enough!” Clara shouted. Both Varric and Cassandra looked at her.

“You’re taking his side!” Cassandra shrieked. Clara put on the noble look and glared at Cassandra.

“I’m taking no one’s side,” she said cooly, “There’s no point in arguing about the past.”

“Thank you,” Varric said. He caught Clara’s eye and instantly cowered.

“I understand why you did it,” Clara said, “But as soon as things began looking the way they did, you should have shared everything you knew.”

Varric looked between her and Cassandra. Then he turned to go downstairs, pausing to look back at them.

“You know what I think would have happened if Hawke had been here?” Varric said, “He would have been killed too.”

Cassandra bowed her head. Clara put a hand on her shoulder.

“Cassandra,” she said, “I know you’re angry.”

“Angry is not the word,” Cassandra said, “I’m disappointed with myself. I believed him; he told me his story and I swallowed it.”

“It’s not the first time a person would do whatever it takes to protect a friend,” Clara said and Cassandra sighed.

“I know that all too well,” she said, “For me, protecting the Divine was the most important thing in the world to me. I cannot blame Varric for that.”

“Will you come with me to Crestwood?” Clara asked, “We’re meeting Hawke and a Grey Warden there who might have some ideas of what Corypheus is.”

Cassandra nodded.

“I will go,” she said, “Now, Inquisitor, forgive me but I really would like some time to myself.”

“I understand,” Clara said and left Cassandra to her thoughts. She began to ask around for Warden Blackwall and found him working in the barn. He was carving a wooden griffin on rockers. Clara looked at him with a smile.

“Don’t read too much into it,” Blackwall said, “I just like to keep busy.”

Clara sat on a bale of hay to watch.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Blackwall said, “We’ve all been worried about you.”

“I’m happy to be up and around again,” Clara said. Blackwall put a warm hand on her shoulder. She could feel the calloused fingers through her tunic.

“Don’t rush back into anything,” he said, “Take your time to continue to rest.”

“I will,” Clara said, “Which reminds me of why I came here.” She told him about the upcoming trip to Crestwood and the meeting with a Warden. Blackwall did not reply.

“A Warden, you say,” he repeated, “Yes, I’d be glad to go, but why me?”

“So many of the Wardens have vanished,” Clara said, “Whatever the reason, you seem to have escaped it. It would be helpful to us to have a free Warden with us.”

Blackwall gazed at her with an expression of sadness in his eyes. Before she could ask, it was gone.

“I’ll be with you,” he said, “But I wonder if you might take a side trip with me while we’re there. Just north of Crestwood is another village. I would like to show you something.”

“All right,” Clara said, “Be ready to go in three days.”

Blackwall bowed and Clara let him return to his work. She returned to her room in favor of taking a nap. IT was early evening when she finally woke. She washed and left her room, exploring more of her fortress. She wandered through several doors until she found herself walking into a quiet garden. Sitting under the gazebo was Dorian, deep in conversation with Cullen. As she drew closer, she felt her cheeks flush; he was not wearing his armor or cloak. He looked relaxed and smiled easily. Clara realized they were playing a game and she quickly turned to leave them alone.

“Ah, Clara, there you are!” Dorian called. Clara inwardly cursed the man and turned back. Cullen had risen to his feet, polite and gallant as ever.

“Are you leaving?” Dorian asked, “Does this mean I win?”

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Clara said.

“It’s really not worth it,” Cullen said, “He’s already lost.”

“Bluffing is hardly worthy of you, Commander,” Dorian said, “You must accept your fate and come to terms with my inevitable victory.”

In two swift turns, Cullen took his final piece.

“It seems I just won,” Cullen said, “And I feel fine.”

Dorian gave him a smirk.

“There’ll be no living with you if you get smug now, Commander,” he said. He rose from his chair and kissed Clara on the cheek. Then he left her alone with Cullen.

“I should return to my duties as well,” Cullen said, “That is unless you would care for a game?”

Clara was taken aback by his invitation. He held out his hand to the empty seat and looked at her hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a short chapter but is so for a reason. The next two chapters (not including immediate chapter coming up, which is an interlude) are going to be long ones.


	5. Interlude: Who could refrain that had a heart to love and in that heart courage to make love known?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: Who could refrain that had a heart to love and in that heart courage to make love known?

 

Clara had played the game of chess exactly once in her life. She remembered some of the game, but not enough to have a chance against Cullen. And yet, she would be a fool to pass up a chance for this time with Cullen. So she smiled confidently.

“Prepare the board, Commander,” she said.

Cullen grinned and did so.

“How long have you played?” Cullen asked.

“Oh, my first game was when I was young,” Clara stumbled, “I’m not sure how old I was.” It wasn’t a total lie, she simply left out the part that it had also been her last game.

“I learned to play when I was a child,” Cullen said, “My sister was forever beating me at the game. So my brother and I practiced for weeks. When I finally won…” He trailed off, picturing the look on his sister’s face with satisfaction.

“How many siblings do you have?” Clara asked.

Two sisters and one brother,” Cullen replied, setting the pieces back in their starting places. “They moved to South Reach after the Blight. Between that, the Circle, Kirkwall and the uprising, I haven’t gotten home as often as I’d like.”

Cullen looked thoughtful. Clara quickly looked over the board, remembering some of what she’d played as a child. She quickly moved a piece into play.

“I wonder if Mia still plays,” Cullen mused, “Ah, my turn.” He moved his piece and Clara took a deep breath before she plunged in.

“Well, let’s keep your skills fresh for when you see her again,” she smiled. Cullen smiled back and they began to play. Clara was pleased to discover that she had not forgotten how to play completely. They sat together in comfortable silence, enjoying the game and each other’s company. After an hour, Cullen chuckled.

“What is it?” Clara asked.

“This may be the longest we’ve gone without talking about the Inquisition,” Cullen said, “I’m enjoying the distraction.”

Clara saw her opening.

“We should spend more time together,” she said, looking down at the board as if studying a move very closely.

“I would like that,” Cullen replied. She looked up quickly and saw him beaming at her.

“So would I,” Clara said. Honey gold and sky blue met and Cullen took her hand.

“You said that,” he said, using the soft tone she loved. Clara blushed.

They continued their game until Cullen sat back in satisfaction.

“And I believe this game is yours,” he said. Clara looked shocked.

“Truly!” she asked, “Wow, who would have thought that one game…”

Cullen laughed. Clara’s eyes widened.

“You let me win?” she asked, horrified. Cullen smiled.

“Yes,” Cullen said, “But not because I felt sorry for you. It was obvious from the first move that you’d never played. So I decided to teach you.”

Clara looked at the board and then back at Cullen. His smile faded slightly.

“You could have told me that you’d never played before,” he said, “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“It’s just that I meant what I said,” Clara replied, “I want to spend more time together with you. This seemed like a good way to do so.”

“I’m glad,” Cullen said, “And I meant what I said as well. So, shall we play another game?”

Clara beamed.

“Yes,” she said, “Only this time, we play fair.”

Cullen tilted his head slightly. Clara smiled ruefully.

“Well, maybe not too fair,” Clara said, “I am still a beginner.

They laughed together and reset the board. For several hours, Clara played with Cullen and took his instruction of the game to heart. He was patient with her, explaining the rules and different strategies. Cullen, for his part, appreciated her intelligent questions and how eager she was to learn.

“I wasn’t really fond of this game before,” Clara said. Cullen looked up at her.

“Are you now?” he asked. Clara smiled and nodded. Cullen felt his heart give a small leap as her summer blue eyes lightened and she placed her piece. 

“Checkmate,” she said. Cullen looked at the board and then at her. She glanced nervously between her piece and his golden eyes.

“Well played,” he said, “We shall have to play again sometime.”

Clara beamed so brightly that Cullen thought he might go blind. He smiled back and rose from his chair.

“We should probably return to our duties before they send a search party looking for us,” Cullen said.

“I’m actually done for the day,” Clara said with a grin. Cullen shot her a friendly sneer.

“Aren’t we lucky?” Cullen said. Clara grinned.

“Well, I can always do some paperwork,” Clara said, “There are a few reports that I need to get to the commander of my forces.”

Cullen gave her a playful tug on her braid and she laughed. Cullen walked off to his office and Clara headed to her room. As she rounded the stairs, she came face to face with the Iron Bull, sitting on her bed and looking at her.

“So, here’s the thing,” he said, “I’ve caught certain signals. Am I right to guess that you want to ‘ride the bull’?”

Clara stared in confusion. Bull was looking down at her with something she didn’t recognize. His gaze was dark and she felt like a deer in the crosshairs of a bow.

“Because I think it’s something I’d like as well,” Bull said. And suddenly Clara understood. And she felt her face ignite.

“Bull,” Clara said weakly. She held tightly to the wall along the staircase. Iron Bull continued to stare. Then he smiled.

“You don’t feel that way?” he asked. He reached out a hand and ran his fingers through her hair, pulling the braid loose.

“I have always had a thing for redheads,” Iron Bull said, “Especially redheads with bodies like yours.”

Clara closed her eyes as his strong fingers traveled down her neck and she shivered. He bent down to run his lips over her neck. She was terrified, but couldn’t push back the feeling of excitement as it tingled across her skin. But it wasn’t his hands she wanted to touch her like this, not his breath against her skin or his voice whispering words of desire. His hands rested on her hips and pulled her closer to him. Clara gave a soft sob as tears escaped her closed lids and trailed down her cheeks. Iron Bull stopped and stared in concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. She opened her eyes to look at him and he wiped the tears away. Then he smiled sadly.

“Ben-Hassrath training be damned,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

He quickly stepped back and bowed.

“My mistake,” he said and walked down the stairs. Clara sank to her knees, shaking with fear and embarrassment. Iron Bull wanted her? He had touched her, made her feel things she had only ever read about or heard the other girls in the Circle. But it wasn’t what she’d hoped for, what she’d longed for when she’d thought of her first love. She regained her feet and slowly walked to the fireplace. She sat for several minutes before she heard the door open and turned to see Cullen coming up the stairs.

“Inquisitor,” he said, “Forgive me, but I think I left some important reports…”

He trailed off and she watched his face change from nervous to worried in a matter of seconds. His brows knit first and his eyes blinked a few times before he clenched his jaw and was beside in three long strides.

“What happened?” he asked. Clara gave him a sad smile.

“I just had my first confession,” she said, “And it was not...everything I thought it would be.”

Cullen stared at her in surprise. She lowered her face to hide the tears, ashamed of herself without knowing why.

“Who?” Cullen asked. Clara stared at him in panic.

“Please, it’s nothing to get angry about,” she said, “Nothing happened.”

As much as she disliked what had happened and how she felt, Iron Bull had respected her and walked away. 

“Who?” Cullen shouted. Clara felt afraid.

“I’ll tell you,” she said, “If you promise to let me handle him.”

Cullen looked ready to argue, but he nodded.

“Iron Bull,” she said. Cullen’s hands clenched. She quickly squeezed his fingers.

“Please let me do this,” she said, “He didn’t do anything, not really.”

She looked up into his golden eyes and saw why some called him the lion of Ferelden. But he sighed and stood up.

“I think I need to go check on the troops in the valley,” Cullen said, “I may be gone overnight.”

Clara nodded.

“I’m leaving for Crestwood in the morning,” she said, “Blackwall, Varric, and Iron Bull are coming with me.”

“Are you sure?” Cullen asked. Clara nodded. Cullen gave a heavy sigh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Be careful in Crestwood,” he said, “If this is the same Alistair, then you can trust him.”

Cullen left Clara sitting in her chair by the fire. As he reached the lowest door, he leaned his head against it.

“Iron Bull has more courage than I,” he said, “Perhaps more than I could ever hope to have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I had a busy couple of weeks and a lot of stress at school, but I'm back. I'll have more chapters being posted.


	6. Here Lies the Abyss Part One - Life…is a paradise to what we fear of death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara travels to Crestwood to meet the Warden friend of Hawke and explores more of her friend Blackwall's history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Here Lies the Abyss Part One - Life…is a paradise to what we fear of death

 

Clara watched as the two Grey Wardens headed out of town. Glancing at Blackwall, she saw no indication that he knew either of them or vice versa. As they went into the village, they saw several other Grey Wardens milling about. They nodded at her, some even bowed, but they didn’t detain her or her companions.

  
“Hawke said he’d meet us on the other side of town,” Varric said softly, “He wanted to try and keep things discreet.”

  
Clara couldn’t fault that. With the large rift under the water and so many Grey Wardens, it was probably better to meet outside the village, especially if what those two Wardens said was true.

  
“I want to check with the mayor first,” Clara said, “There’s got to be a way to get at the rift out there.”

  
The village looked like it had been deserted. Windows were boarded up and several knocks made no difference. Finally, at the top of the hill, they managed to locate the house belonging to the mayor. Iron Bull and Clara went to talk with the mayor while Blackwall and Varric headed for the town edge to make sure it was clear. The meeting with the mayor did not take long and Clara and Bull were soon walking together.

  
“He’s hiding something,” Iron Bull commented, “He never quite met your eyes when he talked about the old part of the village.”

  
“I agree,” Clara said, “After we’re done with Warden Alistair, we can head to that fortress the mayor spoke about.”

  
They walked in silence for a short time. Finally, Clara spoke.

  
“Bull, we need to talk,” she said. Bull turned to look at her through his good eye.

  
“Sure, what about?” he asked.

  
Clara was surprised to hear how casual he was.

  
“About what happened at Skyhold,” she said, “Bull, I care about you deeply and I’m very flattered, but…”

  
“Oh, that,” Iron Bull said, “It’s not a big deal.”

  
“Not a big deal?” Clara said, feeling slightly hurt. Could it really be so easy to cast off feelings for someone?

  
“I’m not the kind of guy to pine after what he can’t have,” Iron Bull said, “Some men might, but not me. The Qun teaches us to move beyond that.”

  
Clara looked away. All her fear of hurting someone, someone she considered a good friend, seemed a waste now.

  
“Were you worried?” he asked. Clara blushed and Iron Bull laughed. He put an arm around her shoulders.

  
“You know what I would call you in the language of my people?” Iron Bull asked. Clara shook her head.

  
“Hissera imekari,” Bull said, “it means ‘child of hope’ roughly in your language.”

  
Clara thought about those words as they walked along. She had always tried to have hope in her life, even in the Circle. Perhaps she had been naive to think that the world was kind and always wanted the best for everyone, but she had always tried to put her hope in something outside what she saw. Now, with so many people seeing her as a symbol of hope, she wondered if the Inquisition had become a source of hope as well.

  
“The point is,” Bull continued, “I can’t get depressed about your feelings when you still care so much about everyone. You didn’t want to hurt me. And that’s you in a nutshell. You don’t want to see anyone hurt. And that’s the biggest reason why I love you.”

  
Clara looked up into his one good eye and smiled.

  
“So, are we okay?” she asked. Bull laughed and gave her braided hair a playful tug.

  
“Yeah, we’re good,” he said. They met the others on by the caves outside of town. Hawke was standing at the farthest edge of the caves.

  
“Glad to see you,” he said, “My friend is in here. Did you see the Grey Wardens in town?”

  
“Just outside town,” Clara said, “Why are they calling Alistair a traitor?”

  
“He’ll have to explain,” Hawke said, “I don’t know all the details myself.”

  
Clara glanced at her companions, who nodded and fell in behind her. She followed Hawke into the cave to the very back where a section was walled off.

  
“He’s just through here,” Hawke said. Clara nodded and pushed through the door. And walked nose first into the point of a sword held by a blonde man with narrowed hazel eyes.

  
“Don’t move,” he said, “Who sent you?”

  
Clara was too shocked to respond at first. Fortunately, she didn’t have to as Hawke hurried in behind her and caught the sword arm.

  
“It’s all right,” Hawke said, “She’s the Inquisitor, Alistair. I brought her with me.”

  
Clara looked at Alistair and immediately realized that he was the same Alistair of the Fifth Blight, the heroic Grey Warden who had traveled and fought alongside the Hero of Ferelden. He was taller than she thought and he had a much leaner build. But he was broad in the shoulders and his arm never trembled as he pointed the sword at her.

  
“The Inquisitor?” Alistair repeated. His voice was a warm tenor. His eyes lightened considerably and he sheathed his sword.

  
“I’m pleased to meet you at last,” he said, “I’ll say this much: You’ve come at a good time.”

***

Clara followed after Alistair as he walked to the entrance of the cave. The stories she had read about the Fifth Blight and the heroes that battled the darkspawn always said Alistair was a light-hearted jester. Even Leliana had said to be prepared for bad jokes and puns. But this Alistair was strangely stoic and aloof.

  
“Are you really the same Alistair that fought in the Fifth Blight?” Clara asked. She covered her mouth at her rudeness. But Alistair seemed unconcerned.

  
“Yes,” he said, “The stories obviously exaggerate my importance. But yes, I was there. The Arch Demon was big. The Hero was brave.”

  
At this, Alistair seemed to drift off into a memory and Clara let him be. She glanced back at Blackwall. He also seemed to be lost in a memory. What Alistair had said about the Calling had seemed to unnerve Blackwall. But he was unaffected for now. When they returned to Skyhold, she’d have to find out more about the Calling. Perhaps Grand Enchanter Fiona could tell her something; it was rumored she’d had the gifts of the Grey Wardens removed. They were cautious going back through town. As they returned to the camp, Alistair pulled Clara aside.

  
“I have something to investigate,” he said, “I’ll meet you back at Skyhold.”

  
Clara nodded and watched as he hurried off. Varric and Iron Bull brought her a bowl of stew.

  
“Let’s eat and head over to the fortress,” Clara said, “We have a rift to close.”

  
“I’ll scout out the fortress while you eat,” Iron Bull said, “Be back in an hour.”

  
Clara sat down next to Blackwall who was staring at his bowl with a far distant gaze.

  
“Ram meat overcooked?” Clara asked. Blackwall blinked at her and then smiled.

  
“No, just lost in thought,” he replied, “What Alistair said about Grey Wardens and the Calling; I don’t fear it but I do worry of what it’s making the other Wardens do. To think they would have such fear.”

  
Clara nodded and sat down beside the fire. Blackwall looked at her.

  
“You’re a sweet lady,” he said, “Perhaps too sweet to have such a position as this.”

  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clara asked in surprise. Blackwall shook his head.

  
“Forgive me,” he said, “Perhaps it’s a bit old-fashioned of me. I’ve always believed that a woman such as yourself deserves the protection of someone powerful.”

  
Clara blushed and thought of Cullen. Blackwall reached out and took her hand.

  
“If it were up to me,” he said, “I would see you never put in danger or pain. You would always be protected. And I would wait on your every desire.”

  
Clara tried to pull back her hand in gentle refusal. Blackwall bowed his head.

  
“Would you come with me for a little while?” he asked.

  
“Where?” Clara asked.

  
“Just up to the Storm Coast. We’ll be back before nightfall.”

  
Clara thought for a moment. Perhaps the trip would help him talk about what troubled him. And if he tried anything forceful, she could always put an ice spell on him.

  
“Okay, let’s go,” she said. After leaving a message with the scout at camp, they set off through the rain. Blackwall was quiet on the trip and Clara didn’t disturb his thoughts.

The Storm Coast was as wet as she remembered. They climbed up into the hills until they reached what looked like an abandoned campsite. It looked so old that Clara couldn’t think why they would come here. Blackwall suddenly came to a stop and picked something up from the ground.

  
“The Warden Constable’s badge,” he said softly, “It’s still here.”

  
“Your badge,” Clara said, “You must have dropped it during battle. That’s unusually careless of you.”

  
Blackwall stared at her for a long moment and then looked back at the badge.

  
“Very careless,” he said, “I did earn it after all. And I should take care of it more.”  
Blackwall looked around at the site. Bones were nearly obscured by the brush and yet Blackwall seemed to recognize everything.

  
“This was my life before you, before the Inquisition,” he said, “Endless battles, crumbled ruins. Death.”

  
Clara walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  
“You don’t have to face all this alone,” Clara said. Blackwall put a hand over hers again and pulled her close.

  
“Nothing frightens you, does it?” he said softly. And then he placed a soft kiss against her lips. It was so quick that she barely had a chance to react. She looked into his eyes and saw his own confusion reflecting back at her. He took a few steps back and bowed his head.

  
“There’s nothing more here for me,” he said, “When we get back, we can talk again. But I need some time to think. I’ll see you back at home.”

  
Blackwall turned away and Clara watched him descend the hill. She started to follow him but had no clue what she would say. So she simply watched him as he mounted his horse and rode away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had problems with the program I had been using to write so I had to replace it. But I love this new program and I'm doing all my writing on it now.
> 
> I hope you're enjoying the series. I was thinking that sometime later I might write more versions of the Inquisitor with the other companions. But let's get through this story first. Slow as it may be, I want to give you quality work.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please give kudos and even comments. I love hearing from people as they read.


	7. Interlude: ‘Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen reveals a personal struggle and Clara travels to the Exalted Plains, where she has the opportunity to touch on her mother's history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: ‘Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall  
  
Cullen stared at the box with a mixture of disgust and longing. It was calling to him, singing its siren song and he was powerless to tune it out.

“No,” he said with a gasp as he slammed the box closed.

“The Inquisitor is back,” a scout called from the courtyard.

Cullen ran to the window and looked out. He could see the fiery red hair blowing in the wind. She had taken it from its braid and it blew around her like the tail of a comet. He smiled and went down to the courtyard. She was riding alone.

“Where are your companions?” he asked her. Clara smiled in a tired way.

“Varric and Hawke stopped to say hello to Hawke’s sister,” she said, “Iron Bull is coming up later. He had some intelligence to take care of. And Blackwall had…something to do.”

Cullen asked nothing more. He held the reins as Clara climbed off the horse. And he made a decision.

“Inquisitor,” he said, “When you have a moment, I’d like to discuss something with you.”

Clara looked up at him. She had seen him serious a great deal, but there was a pain in his face now. She nodded and went to her room to freshen up and change. For some reason, she took more time to decide how to dress for her meeting. It was silly she knew; the Commander was a very professional man and wouldn’t possibly care if she showed up in her small clothes. Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration. He was a former Templar after all. Finally, she chose to wear a pair of gray leather pants and a blue bodice shirt. Satisfied that she looked acceptable without seeming to have spent a great deal on it. She strolled casually through the main hall and through Solas’ study. He was seated at his desk, drinking tea with a look of deep disgust.

“Bad tea?” she asked. He looked up at her with a grimace.

“I detest the stuff,” he admitted, “But I need it to shake the dreams from my mind. I saw a friend in the Fade that is in desperate danger.”

Clara listened with growing interest as Solas shared the story of his friend, a spirit of wisdom, who had called out for help.

“Inquisitor,” he said, “Da’len, please, can we not do something to help my friend?”

“Yes, Solas,” Clara said without hesitation, “I believe that we can do something.”

“Thank you, Clara,” he said and she smiled, “I shall give the location in the Exalted Plains to Leliana to mark on the map.”

“Good,” she said, “Please excuse me now. I have a meeting with Commander Cullen.”

Solas smiled and nodded. Clara hurried out to the ramparts. The sun was shining warmly as she climbed the steps to his office. But when she opened the door, a gloom seemed to be hanging over the room. Clara realized this was the first time she’d ever been in his office, at least when it was just the two of them. There was a thrill to the idea but it was hard to get excited when the man behind the large desk look so unhappy.

“Ah, Inquisitor,” Cullen said as he looked up, “Thank you for coming. There’s something I…I have something…”

His hand drifted to the back of his neck, a clear sign of nerves. Clara came closer to the desk. She smiled at him.

“Whatever you have to tell me, I’ll listen,” she said. Cullen released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” he said. He reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a small, flat box. He opened it and Clara saw a familiar syringe, phylactery, and the blue liquid of lyrium. 

“A Templar has no magic, you know this,” Cullen said, “But with lyrium, we are able to quell magic. It is lyrium that gives the Templar the ability to do so.”

Clara knew this fact. She had often seen more than one Templar in the Circle take lyrium. She’d taken it herself when she faced her Harrowing.

“As leader of the Inquisition,” Cullen continued, “You deserve to know. Lyrium gives us, that is, gives Templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off from it suffer. They go mad, lose their memories. Some even die.”

Cullen looked up at Clara and he steeled himself.

“We’ve secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here,” he said, “But I…I no longer take it.”

“You’ve stopped?” she asked. Her heart had jumped into her throat. Cullen nodded and gave another heavy sigh.

“When I joined the Inquisition,” he whispered, “It’s been months now.”

Philip’s face appeared in Clara’s mind and she thought of what he must have gone through. Had he been addicted? Had he ever suffer without a source of lyrium.

“Cullen, if this can kill you,” she started to say. Cullen shook his head.

“It hasn’t yet,” he said.

“Are you in pain?”

“I can manage,” he said, “After what happened in the Circle in Ferelden and in Kirkwall, I promised myself I would never again be bound to that life.”

Gooseflesh prickled across Clara’s skin at his words. Her heart jumped again and fluttered like a bird. He stood up straight and rested his hands on his sword.

“But I would not put the Inquisition or you at risk,” he said with a smile, “I can endure whatever pain comes, but I’ve asked Cassandra to watch me. If in her judgment, I become a risk or I am unable to do my duty, she has promised to replace me.”

Clara walked slowly around the desk. Cullen’s eyes followed her until she was so close to him he could smell the sweetness of the bath oils.

“I respect your decision,” she said, “Thank you for telling me.”

Cullen smiled down at her. He reached out and touched her cheek in a tender movement.

“Should my ability to lead the troops to suffer,” Cullen said, “I will defer to Cassandra’s judgment.”

Clara nodded. Her heart continued its cadence in her chest. There seemed little more to say and she was suddenly nervous that he could hear her heart. There was something about the way he was looking at her that made her tremble.

“Alistair should be arriving in the next day or so,” she said, “I’m going to the Exalted Plains to help Solas with a personal matter.”

Cullen stepped back. He had frightened her. He had frightened himself. This small woman, so much younger than him had stirred his heart. 

“Of course,” he said, “If you need anything before you leave, please let me know.”

Clara left the office and leaned against the door, her heart racing. She couldn’t deny it. She was in love with him. But he was going through so much. She couldn’t let her feelings be an additional concern.

“After Corypheus,” she said sadly, “Then I’ll definitely tell him. 

She hurried off to the War Room to arrange for her journey to the Exalted Plains.

***

Clara watched sadly as Solas drifted away over the grassy hills. She wanted to run after him, to take him back to Skyhold, to tell him he didn’t have to be alone. But, like Blackwall, she let him have his space. 

“Let’s get back to camp,” Clara said sadly. Cassandra and Sera nodded. Sera looked back at Solas.

“I may not understand how he gets off on hanging out with demons,” she said, “But I feel bad for him losing his friend.”

Clara didn’t respond. So far, two members of her party were gone. What would her advisors think of this? As they walked, Clara heard the sound of gentle bleating. She looked across the river and saw several aravels. Elves were moving among them, loading supplies and feeding their halla.

“Keep going, Inquisitor,” Sera said, “You don’t want to get in with elfy people.”

“I’m half-elven, Sera,” Clara reminded her, “I’ve always been curious about my mother’s people.”

“Your mum wasn’t Dalish though,” Sera said, “She was from an alienage, same as me.”

“But she always said she was taken from a Dalish clan when she was young,” Clara said. She found a shallow part across the river and went up to the one who looked like the leader. He had a serious and weather-beaten face.

“Excuse me,” Clara said. The elf looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and distrust. She heard Sera sigh behind her.

“I’m very sorry to bother you,” Clara continued. The elf raised his hand.

“What could a shem want with us?” he asked. Clara blinked, unfamiliar with the word.

“Wait,” another elf said from behind the leader, “You’re with the Inquisition. I’ve seen your troops marching around her, chasing off the Dale men.”

The rest of the clan came up to her. One of them eyed her very closely.

“You’re a half-elf,” she said, “By your Mother or Father?”

“My mother,” Clara said, “And yes, we are with the Inquisition.”

“And this is Her Inquisition-ness herself,” Sera said. The elves looked at Clara with increased interest. The leader of the clan stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“My name is Taniel,” he said at last, “Perhaps you might help us with a few matters.”

Clara listened as Taniel as he explained their troubles crossing over the plains on their pilgrimage because of the raging battles between the other shem armies. Sera listened for a few moments before rolling her eyes and disappearing to practice arrows. Cassandra remained, demonstrating an attentiveness that could only be the result of her years of training in the Seekers. 

“Can you help us, Inquisitor?” Taniel asked. Clara looked at Cassandra, nodding her head off to the side and they moved out of earshot.

“What do you think?” she asked. Cassandra folded her arms.

“I think it would be a great kindness to help them,” she replied, “It will paint the Inquisition in a positive light amongst the Dalish.”

Clara nodded, although she had a personal reason for helping. In some small way, she wanted to draw closer to her mother’s people. She turned back to Taniel and agreed to send a squad of Inquisition soldiers to ensure that the paths across the plains were kept clear for any traveling clans in the Exalted Plains. Taniel bowed and agreed to offer assistance to other soldiers as they were able. Clara left and returned to camp, meeting up with Sera who was already eating. Scout Harding brought a report of the Orlesian forces in Fort Revasan and in Citadelle du Corbeau. Then a final side note from Leliana that had arrived in Skyhold.

“Cassandra,” Clara said, “We’re heading back to Skyhold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Independence Day to all my American readers. I've enjoyed having the day from work and I've used it to get some writing done. I hope you're enjoying the story so far.


	8. Interlude: My dull brain was wrought with things forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara prepares herself to face the forces at Adamant, and she also gets to know the man Alistair behind his legend. But before she can go to the new challenges, a new task amongst her companions may have to be dealt with first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Clara opened the door to the War Room and saw Alistair standing alongside Leliana. The two were talking cheerfully. Leliana was smiling in a way that Clara had never seen. She looked so much younger in the presence of an old companion. Alistair turned to look at her with a warm smile. Outside the gloom of the smuggler’s cave, Alistair was much more handsome.   
“So your hair is really that red,” Alistair said, “I thought it was the firelight.”  
Clara gave a small curtsy and Alistair laughed. Leliana handed him a tankard of ale.  
“Dinner is some time away yet,” she said, “Would you like something a bit stronger?”  
“No, thank you, Leliana,” Alistair said, “Never touch anything stronger than ale.”  
Cullen and Josephine came through the door. Clara noted that Cullen looked pale. But he was smiling. He strode forward and shook Alistair’s hand.  
“Good to see you again, Cullen,” Alistair said, “How’s life treating you these days?”  
“Aside from the reason that drags us all together, quite well,” Cullen replied.  
“I don’t know about you, but I’m here for the food,” Alistair said. Leliana snorted into her drink. Alistair looked at her with a cheeky smile.  
“I have missed you, Alistair,” Leliana said. Alistair bowed his head. Then he got serious.  
“I followed up on my lead,” he said, “The Grey Wardens are gathering in the Western Approach. There’s an old fortress that the Grey Wardens used to hold called Adamant. They’re meeting there.”  
“To do what?” Clara asked.  
Alistair looked grim.  
“There’s some sort of ceremony going on,” he says, “And it involves blood magic.”  
Cullen and Leliana exchanged dark looks. Josephine also looked grim. Clara knew very little about blood magic. The Circle of Ostwick had frowned on the practice but acknowledged that it existed. She knew the theory and the general idea about it, but she’d never seen it in action.   
“Looks like I’m going to see it soon,” she thought. She looked at the map, locating the Western Approach. It was far to the west in Orlais.   
“Cullen, are you alright?” Leliana asked. Clara looked up to see Cullen rubbing his temple. Alistair glanced over as well.  
“Fine, just a headache,” Cullen replied, “Let’s continue. We can arrange can get our troops to depart for the Fortress in a week’s time.”  
“A week is too long,” Josephine said, “We need to take action now. If this ceremony at that tower is as concerning as we all seem to think it is, then we must not wait.”  
“We’re not prepared for a full assault,” Cullen said, “Our forces are spread out between the Emerald Graves, the Exalted Plains, as well as here in Ferelden. We can’t get together in less than a week.”  
“I can go,” Clara said, “I’m a mage, I might be able to do something to halt the ceremony.”  
“That’s dangerous,” Cullen said, “You’ve never seen what blood magic can do.”  
Clara looked at Cullen. He looked paler and there was a light sheen of perspiration across his brow. There was something he wasn’t telling her. But she had no time to dwell on it now, as much as it bothered her to see him so agitated.  
“I can handle it,” Clara replied, “I’ll take Dorian with me. He’ll have some idea of how to prepare for it.”  
“I’d like to come too.”  
All eyes turned around as Blackwall entered the room. He looked haggard and there were deep shadows under his eyes. But he looked determined.  
“Warden Blackwall,” Alistair greeted, “I’m glad to see you again.” Blackwall nodded. His eyes drifted over to Josephine. She gave a small curtsy and glanced away. Clara felt a smile creep over her lips.   
“The Wardens will be glad to have one of their own at the temple,” Alistair said.  
“Forgive me, but won’t you be there as well?” Blackwall asked.  
“Yes, well,” Alistair said, “Perhaps I should say ‘the Wardens will be glad to have a non-disgraced Warden at their side’.”  
“I’ll be very glad to have you with us, Blackwall,” Clara said, “Can a message be sent to Hawke and Varric to meet us there?”  
“Yes, Inquisitor,” Leliana said, “I’ll arrange for preparations to be in place to receive you in the Western Approach. We should be ready in a couple of days”  
“Then we’ll leave in two days,” Clara said. She held back her sigh. She had barely had time to relax after the Exalted Plains.  
“In the meantime,” Leliana said, “We’re having a banquet tonight to entertain some guests from Orlais, as well as welcome our honored guest: one of the heroes of the Fifth Blight.”  
“You’re not serious, Leliana,” Alistair said, “If that’s all you need for a reason, then your presence would mean nightly feasts.”  
Leliana giggled. Josephine looked simply delighted and went into a full speech of what the menu would entail. Cullen simply shook his head with an amused smirk. Clara took the moment to slip over beside him.  
“Are you truly well?” she asked quietly. Cullen smiled and nodded.  
“Nothing an excellent meal won’t fix,” he said.  
“We’re adjourned then,” Josephine said, “Um, Warden Blackwall, I wonder if I might have a moment.”  
Clara walked towards the door, following behind Alistair and Leliana, who were chatting animatedly. As she passed them, she heard Josephine whispering in Blackwall’s ear.  
“The flowers were beautiful,” she said. Blackwall gave a soft “hmm” and bowed. He glanced over at Clara and smiled. Clara returned it. He seemed to accept that she could not return the feelings he had. She would have to speak to him later about rebound relationships. Clara returned to her room to change. To her surprise, Vivienne was there.  
“Welcome back, my dear,” she said, “I thought I would take the opportunity to fix up your room. It needed some definite help.”  
The room was furnished and welcoming compared to the rather spartan look it had before.  
“Josephine informed me of a banquet tonight,” Vivienne said, “I arranged to have some clothes delivered for your use. There are more on the way as well for other formal events.”  
Clara bit back a groan as she looked at the choices laid before her. So far, she had managed to escape from formal attire. The last dress she’d worn had been destroyed after Haven. She hadn’t worn one since.  
“Isn’t there a simpler choice?” Clara asked, “Something a little less…frilly?”  
Vivienne raised a pencil thin brow and they began to search through the piles of fabric until they found a midnight blue gown that fell to her ankles. It had long open sleeves and a very low neckline that Clara was pretty sure was Josephine’s idea. To its credit, it was accented with cut glass that made Clara think of the stars at night.  
“That will look lovely on you,” Vivienne said, “It’s a bit understated, but I think it will work for this evening. You’ll need something more for Orlais.”  
Clara bathed and changed into the dress. Then Vivienne brushed her hair free of tangles and styled straight, braiding part of her hair around her like a crown. And she did her makeup.  
“For tonight,” Vivienne said, “I think we’ll go light. Although I would prefer to make you up in the grand style expected of a noblewoman.”  
Clara was glad to hear it, as even Vivienne’s idea of “light” was too heavy for Clara, who wore no makeup at all. At last, she slipped on a pair of slippers and headed back to the hall. The feast was already in full swing and a few guests had already emptied one cask of wine. As Clara came in, the room filled with applause. Clara blushed and waved. She began to mingle among the crowd, following Josephine as she introduced her to noble after dignitary after duke. As she was paraded around the hall, she kept looking for Cullen. He was speaking with several generals and other officers. She tried to catch his eye, to see how he was doing. Finally, she lost track of him as several court ladies of descended on her like a flock of silk birds. Soon, Clara’s head was a whirl of wine, food, and inane conversation.  
“Josephine, I’m going to step outside for a moment,” Clara said, “I’ll be right back.” Josephine didn’t appear to hear her; she was laughing with a duke. Or was it a count. They were all starting to blur together. As gracefully as she could, she stepped out into the courtyard. The sun was barely a glow behind the mountains and the stars were beginning to appear. Clara took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and felt the fog of sleep start to lift. She glanced back and saw that she hadn’t been missed. So she strolled up to the battlements. To her surprise, Alistair was standing there, looking out over the troops.   
“Care to join me?” Alistair said, not turning around, “I think we both need a break from the attention these high society folks.”  
“If I won’t bother you,” Clara said, standing next to him. She saw the valley was full of light and could hear the faint song of celebration.   
“We’re not the only ones celebrating tonight,” Alistair said softly. Clara looked up at him. There was a distance in his eyes, as though he were seeing something a lifetime away.  
“They need some celebration,” Clara said, “They’ve worked hard and done wonders for Thedas.”  
“They’ve been inspired,” Alistair said. He took her hand and looked at her.   
“I’ve seen inspiration in a person before,” he said, “You wear it well.”  
Clara watched as Alistair drift into his own thoughts again. She took a breath and asked the question she’d wanted to since she first met him.  
“What was she like?” Clara asked. Alistair turned and blinked.  
“Who?” he asked.  
“The Hero of Ferelden,” Clara said. Alistair rolled his eyes.  
“Brave, strong, she wouldn’t back down from any fight,” Alistair replied. It sounded rehearsed. Clara shook her head.  
“No, I mean, what was ‘she’ like,” Clara asked again, “I know what the stories say, but who was she apart from all that?”  
Alistair looked at her for a long moment and Clara began to worry that she’d offended him. Finally, he smiled in a sad, wistful way.  
“Her name was Anna,” he said, “She was the only daughter of the House of Cousland in Highever.”  
“I remember contacting the Teryn in Highever,” Clara said. Alistair nodded.  
“Her older brother,” Alistair said, “I met Fergus once, just after the…funeral. I don’t know which of us was more of a comfort to the other. Anna never gave up trying to find him after the Battle of Ostagar. She asked about him everywhere, in every place we looked for allies.”  
Clara thought about her own family, her last words with the spirit who had pretended to be Philip.   
“They never saw each other again,” Alistair said, “But Anna knew he was alive. And she let that thought push her forward.”  
“Were you and she…” Clara began and then blushed. It was far too intimate a question to ask someone she barely knew. But Alistair sighed.  
“Yes,” he said, his voice full of a longing that Clara had never heard anyone use, “Very deeply. I don’t know about her, but for me, it was an instant attraction.”  
“She was beautiful,” Alistair continued, “And compassionate. But fierce too. I always marveled at her passion in battle. It was as though every darkspawn were a personal enemy.”  
“I can relate to that,” Clara said, looking at the mark on her hand. Alistair took her hand again. And he gave her a teasing smile.  
“Her passion went far beyond just battle,” he said, “Let’s just say that the nights in the camp were never too cold.”  
Clara went red as several images swirled in her head. Alistair chuckled.  
“I tried so often to tease her like this,” he said, “She never fell for it. Most of the time she gave back even better. But if you were hurting, she was ready to sit and listen. Maker’s breath, but I do miss that woman.” Alistair’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat.  
“After all this time, are you still in love with her?” Clara asked, “How do you deal with those feelings, knowing that you’re the only who has them? How do you get through the ache?”  
She realized she had stopped talking about Anna Cousland and Alistair. She looked up at Alistair with a rueful expression. He didn’t seem mad. Instead, his smile was full of understanding and sympathy.  
“It’s Cullen, isn’t it?” he asked. Clara blushed and hid her face.  
“I saw the way you were looking at him,” he said, “Why are you hiding how you feel?”  
Clara shook her head and waved an arm out over the encampments.  
“All those people are counting on me,” she said, “I have responsibilities to all of Thedas.”  
“But what about to yourself?” Alistair asked, “Happiness is fleeting in this world. Once you find it, don’t let it go.”  
Clara sighed and closed her eyes.   
“I don’t know that I know exactly what happiness looks or feels like,” Clara said, “My father’s home was full of distant people, the Circle was too. But here….” She trailed off and looked out over the encampments again.  
“No,” Clara continued, “Right now, all these people. I owe them a future. I can’t think about myself right now.”  
Alistair tucked a strand of hair behind her head. He turned his gaze out over the camps.  
“All those people aren’t just fighting because they want the future safe,” Alistair said, “I’ve talked to some of them. Many of them want your future secure as well.”  
“My future,” Clara said. She looked at the mark on her hand once more and smiled sadly.  
“For now, let’s just focus on Adamant,” she said, “Whatever happens after that, I’ll take it as it comes.”

***  
Alistair left the following morning, accompanied by several of Leliana’s agents. Clara would follow after with her small band, with the forces could be marshaled from the surrounding regions back to Skyhold to prepare to march. Clara would take a small company to meet with Alistair and check out the fortress of Griffon Wing Keep. If they managed to take it, it would provide a critical hold in Orlais, as well as attacking Adamant Fortress. The day after Alistair had gone, Clara woke early out of habit. The sun was not yet up and there was a servant starting a fire in the large grate.  
“Good morning,” Clara said. The servant looked around and bowed.  
“Good morning, my lady,” he said, “Where are you off to this day?”  
Clara thought for a few moments and then broke into a smile.  
“Actually, I don’t have anywhere to be,” she said, “That’s a first.  
The servant finished lighting the fire then stood up.  
“Would you like breakfast sent up here this morning?” he asked.  
“That sounds wonderful,” Clara said, “But I really shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to the troops eating in the valley.”   
“My lady, if I may be so bold, you deserve a moment of luxury,” the servant said. He left the room and Clara stretched luxuriously before falling back against the silk pillows. The idea of a few days of lounging about with nothing more than meetings to attend sounded like heaven after the last few months. Breakfast arrived in almost no time, along with a few reports to go over and a message from Josephine that she was to pass judgment of Alexius. Clara cringed as she ate. She had forgotten about the duty she had to judge criminals against the Inquisition. It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t include Alexius. He had done horrible things, but she’d seen the regret in his face in that dark future. And she knew that Dorian would be concerned about it as well.   
An hour later, Clara had arrived in the Great Hall, dressed in a blue tunic and brown leather pants and boots. As she shut the door, the room grew silent. She saw Dorian standing above on the balcony beside Vivienne, looking on with mild interest. Clara gave him a smile sad smile and he nodded. She took her seat and Josephine began to call forward the criminals. Some were small crimes: duty dereliction, small thefts or disputes between farmers. Others were more serious. At last, Josephine called Alexius. Clara looked up once more to Dorian but he had left.  
“Inquisitor, you recall Gereon Alexius,” Josephine said, “Teviniter says they will accept your judgment of him. He is charged with apostasy, attempted enslavement, and, as you know, attempted assassination.”  
“I remember only too well,” Clara replied, “What precedent does nearly ripping apart time itself hold in court?”  
Alexius gave a bitter laugh and looked up at her with the same haunted expression she’d seen in the future.  
“I couldn’t save my son,” he growled, “Do you think my fate matters to me?”  
“Will you offer no defense?” Josephine asked.  
“You’ve won nothing!” Alexius spat, “All that you’ve gained, all the fame you’ve gained, it will not save you in the storm to come. Render your judgment, Inquisitor.”  
Clara looked at the old man for a long time. Finally, she spoke.  
“The storm you speak of is one that I will never let happen,” she said, “Pray that I succeed. As for you, you promised to help the mages of Redcliffe and I will hold you to that promise. Fiona will take charge of you. Whatever knowledge, favor or coin you gain, it will go to them and their future.”  
The crowd began to murmur, some with surprise, most with approval. Alexius looked surprised.  
“A headsman would have been kinder,” he said.  
“You’ve had that punishment already,” Clara said. Alexius gasped.  
“Did the spell work?” he asked as he was lead out by the guards. Clara leaned back into the chair, feeling drained but satisfied. Josephine looked at her expectantly.  
“A few more, Josephine,” she said, “Then let’s be done for today.”

***  
The crowd departed for various activities. Clara stood up and stretched, feeling suddenly desperate for a nap.  
“Inquisitor, if I may have a moment.”  
Mother Giselle met Clara just at the base of the dais.  
“I always have time for you, Mother Giselle,” Clara said. Mother Giselle smiled warmly and took Clara by the arm. They strolled out into the garden that Clara had arranged as a place of meditation and prayer for members of the Chantry.  
“You’ve done wonders for this garden,” Clara said, pausing to admire the growing sprouts of elfroot.   
“It is thanks to you that we have the resources we need to make this prosper,” Mother Giselle said, “This has become an herb garden, as well as a sanctuary for prayer and meditation. But that is not why I asked to speak with you. I have received a letter from Tevinter.”  
Clara looked up curiously.  
“Do you have any reservations about the Tevinter whom you count amongst your companions?” she asked.  
“Dorian?” Clara asked, “No, none. Why?”  
“The letter is from his family, House Parvus,” Mother Giselle continued, “Are you familiar with them?”  
“Only what Dorian has told me,” Clara replied, “He doesn’t seem to be on very good terms with them.”  
“The family sent a letter, describing the estrangement and asking for my help,” Mother Giselle said, “They wish to arrange a meeting with him. Quietly. Perhaps, since you seem close to the young man, you might arrange some way to…”  
“It doesn’t seem right to trick him, Reverend Mother,” Clara replied, “Whatever Dorian may think about his family, we have no right to deny him the right to accept or refuse.”  
“His family feels that informing him of their presence will cause him to retreat,” Mother Giselle said, “If you must tell him, you should be discreet.”  
Clara wandered for some time, lost in thought as to how best to approach the situation. Dorian had not given her much information about his relationship with his family, only that it was not a close one. Clara had not been close to her father; she was the constant reminder of his faithlessness and weak will. And yet, he did not hesitate to take her in when her mother was gone. And he had done so despite his wife’s fury. Her stepmother was another issue altogether. If she were to receive word from her or Tomas, her elder brother, would she be as willing to go if she knew who would be there? She doubted she would, so how would she feel about going to visit with them without being told they’d be there? As she strolled, she noticed Cassandra seated next to one of the practice dummies, reading. Smiling, Clara walked quietly forward.  
“Good book?” she asked. Cassandra jumped up immediately and hid the book behind her back.  
“Inquisitor!” Cassandra said and Clara was sure she was actually blushing, “I’m sorry, what can I do for you?”  
“Hmm,” Clara said, considering sharing her dilemma. Then she smiled wickedly.  
“You can tell me what book you’re reading that’s so secretive.” Cassandra twitched and Clara heard the pages rustle in her nervous hands.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cassandra said, glancing away.  
“Oh, really?” Clara said, feeling strangely pleased by Cassandra’s behavior, “Then why hide it?”  
“I’m not hiding anything!” Cassandra said defensively.  
“Of course not,” Clara said with a wicked grin. Cassandra sighed.  
“It’s a book,” she said.  
“Yes, I can see,” Clara said. Cassandra caught the hint.  
“It’s one of….of Varric’s works,” she stuttered, “Swords and Shields. The latest chapter.”  
Clara looked at her thoughtfully.  
“I’m not familiar with that series,” Clara said, “And Philip sent me everything Varric wrote.”  
“No, I’m sure he wouldn’t have sent this,” Cassandra said.  
“Why not?”  
“It’s literature,” Cassandra said, “Smutty literature.”  
Clara blushed.  
“They’re terrible,” Cassandra breathed, “And magnificent. We’ve been so busy, I haven’t been able to read it as often as I like. And this one ends in a cliffhanger. I know Varric is working on the next one, he must be.”  
Cassandra looked imploringly at Clara.  
“Whatever you do, don’t tell Varric,” she said. Clara looked shocked.  
“Why?” she asked, “I’d think he’d be pleased to find you’re such a fan.”  
“ ‘Pleased’,” Cassandra repeated, “Yes, that’s one word for it.”  
“Surely Varric would love to know the series is a favorite of our pious Seeker Pentaghast.”  
Dorian came around the corner with a broad grin on his face. Cassandra straightened.  
“Nobody asked you, ‘Tevinter’,” she said. Dorian only continued to grin  
“She actually lent me one of them,” he said as he strolled past, “I actually feel dumber for having read it.”  
Clara shot the man a frown he couldn’t see. Cassandra suddenly gripped her shoulders.  
“You,” she said with an air of girlish excitement, “You could ask him to finish it, Inquisitor. You could command him to…”  
She trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was asking. The stern face and piety slipped back into place.  
“Pretend you don’t know this about me,” she said. Clara nodded, still smiling. As she walked away after Dorian, she glanced back and barely contained her giggle as she watched Cassandra sit down again to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost a lot of steam on this story for a lot of personal reasons. Things started to get better, but now I'm going through a very hard time. I'm hoping that by working on this story I'll be able to cope with things again. I don't want to bore you with my life because that's not why you're here. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story.


	9. Inner Circle - Last Resort of Good Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and Dorian travel to Redcliffe Village on a personal matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Inner Circle - Last Resort of Good Men

“Dorian, wait a moment,” Clara called. Dorian stopped and turned.  
“And what can I do for my favorite cousin this morning?” he asked.  
“I was wondering,” Clara said. Then she paused as Dorian waited expectantly  
“I was wondering,” Clara said again, “If you would come to the Gull and Wing in Redcliffe with me?”  
Dorian raised a brow curiously.  
“My dear cousin, are you asking me on a date?” he asked, “Oh, what would your dear father say about cavorting with a Tevinter.”  
Clara rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the arm.  
“I have some business to take care of there,” Clara said, “If you don’t want to, I can ask Blackwell. I just thought it might be nice to spend some time together.”  
Dorian shook his head with the air of an indulgent brother.  
“Very well,” he said, “When would you like to leave?”  
“Let’s go now,” Clara said, “It’ll take most of the morning to get there so we may as well start.”  
As they walked to the stables, Clara tried to ignore the feeling of guilt at deceiving her cousin. But Mother Giselle would know what was best, just as she had known for meeting the Chantry in Val Royeaux. She had to trust that the woman was right yet again.

They traveled cheerfully, talking of their companions and the places they’d visited so far. Dorian asked many questions about her life in the Circle. He seemed fascinated by the idea of mages being kept inside under guard.  
“It wasn’t all bad,” Clara said, “I’ve heard some Circles were worse and being of a noble house got me some protection. But it was mostly lonely. In the Circles, you aren’t trusted. And the Templars never think you’re in control.”  
“It’s almost the opposite in Tevinter,” Dorian said, “It’s we mages who are distrustful of everyone else and those of us in places of leadership do little to dispel the distrust they have.”  
“’Magic exists to serve man, and not rule over him,’” Clara said, “But it seems like people are too afraid to let magic serve them.”  
“Something between Tevinter and Ferelden then,” Dorian said, “Perhaps you’ll be able to shift that position with your authority”  
“Wouldn’t that thrill my brother and stepmother,” Clara said with a laugh, “The bastard child of Bann Trevelyan changing the fates of mages across Thedas.”  
“A task that could not have been placed in better hands,” Dorian said, “Or fairer.”  
“What about you?” Clara said, “There seems to be bad blood between you and your family as well.” Dorian started laughing.  
“Interesting turn of phrase,” he said, “I know I haven’t talked much about my family before. But you’re right. They don’t care for my choices, and I don’t care for theirs.”  
“Because you left?” Clara asked. Dorian grimaced.  
“Among other reasons,” he said, “But never mind, it’s all in the past now.”  
Clara smiled, pushing down the feeling of guilt again. As they rode into Redcliffe Village, a few people waved in greeting. Some hurried over to give Clara flowers or press baskets of food upon her. Clara accepted the flowers gratefully but encouraged that the food is given to Inquisition soldiers still in the area. Cheer after cheer followed her and Dorian to the tavern doors.  
“After all that, “ Dorian said, “Perhaps the first drink is on you.”   
The Gull and Wing Tavern was completely deserted.  
“Is it normally like this?” Dorian asked. Clara shrugged, looking around for the retainer.  
“Well, at least I’ll be able to have that quiet drink without waiting,” Dorian said.  
“Dorian.”  
Clara and Dorian both turned around. Clara looked expectantly at Dorian. His face first registered surprise, then shock.  
“Father?” he asked. Clara looked between them in alarm. This wasn’t right. Then Dorian turned to look at her. She couldn’t react quickly to feign surprise.  
“You knew about this?” he asked. Clara could hear the hurt in his voice and saw his face change from shock to pain and then to anger.  
“I,” Clara started, but Dorian was towering over her in such a rage that Clara couldn’t say anything more.  
“You knew this was going to happen?” Dorian said, “That’s why you brought me here? Why would you lie to me?”  
“I didn’t,” Clara said, “Mother Giselle said…she said it was a retainer. She told me that it was better you didn’t know.”  
Dorian turned his back on her.   
“She did not know I would be here, Dorian,” Magister Parvus said, “I asked that Mother Giselle say nothing of the matter. I never intended for the Inquisitor to be involved.”  
“Oh, yes, what would that do for the reputation of Magister Halward Parvus,” Dorian drawled, “To meet with the dread Inquisitor would no doubt give your rivals ample fuel. And Maker knows you’ve spent so much time trying to avoid that.”  
“Dorian,” Parvus sighed.  
“So what now, Father?” Dorian said, “What shall it be? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”  
Parvus closed his eyes as though in pain. Clara watched curiously as he looked Dorian in the face  
“This is how it has always been,” he said sadly.  
Clara stepped forward to look up into Magister Parvus’ dark eyes.  
“You wanted Dorian here to talk,” she said, “So talk. I’ll leave you both to it.”  
“Oh, no you don’t,” Dorian said, “You wanted to get involved, so you’re going to hear the whole truth.”  
Dorian wore an ugly smile as he looked from both Clara to his father.  
“Dorian, there’s no need to,” Parvus began, but Dorian cut him off.  
“I prefer the company of men,” he said baldly.  
There was a long silence that Clara felt was heavier and more pressing than if the weight of the mine had collapsed on her.  
I…I don’t understand,” Clara said, “You, you mean…”  
“Did I stutter?” Dorian said, “Men and their company, as in sex. Or perhaps you haven’t a clue what that is.”  
Clara did her best to hide her hurt and her confusion, but for a moment she saw the vicious triumph in Dorian’s eyes. Then it was quickly followed by a look of regret. But Clara looked away.  
“I didn’t expect it, that’s all,” she said, her voice sounding flat.  
“That display was uncalled for,” Parvus said, speaking in the tone that every parent used with wayward children. Clara did her best to keep a stoic face as she watched Dorian flush guiltily in spite of his anger.  
“I think it is very called for,” Dorian said, “How would you have expected me to react after being lured out here.”  
“It was not meant as a lure,” Parvus said, “Not what I wanted.”  
“No,” Dorian agreed, “I’m nothing that you wanted. Or have you forgotten?”  
For the first time, Clara heard the sound of pain in Dorian’s voice.  
“You were so determined to live up to the impossible standard,” Dorian said, “So desperate to build the perfect mage; body, mind, leadership. And when I didn’t fit that design, when my—my “flaw” was revealed…oh, the shame on the House of Parvus.”  
Parvus bowed his head in shame, but not before Clara caught the glimmer of tears.  
“Perhaps this is a chance to reach out?” Clara said, “To start anew?” Dorian glowered at her.  
“Dorian, please, let me speak,” Parvus said  
“Why?” Dorian said, “So you can spout more convenient lies?”  
He turned back to look at Clara and Clara saw the raw emotion in his face.  
“He taught me to hate blood magic,” he hissed, “But as soon as he realized his son wouldn’t fall into place in his plan, to play pretend for the rest of his life, what did you try to do?”  
Parvus bowed his head and Clara felt a sudden cold rush.  
“You tried to—to change me,” Dorian said, his voice cracking with the emotion. Parvus reached out imploringly. Dorian pulled away and turned his back.  
“I only wanted what was best for you,” Parvus said. Dorian turned sharply around.  
“No!” he snapped, “You wanted what was best for you! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that.”  
Magister Parvus had no response. Dorian seemed to falter under the weight of his own words and he walked over to the bar. Clara looked coldly at the Magister before joining Dorian.  
“Dorian,” she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tensed but did not pull away.  
“Don’t leave it like this,” she said, “You’d never forgive yourself.”  
“Why should I?” Dorian asked. Clara sighed.  
“Because you never know when it might be the last time,” she said sadly. Dorian turned to look at her. Then he turned back to his father.  
“Why did you come?” he asked.  
“If I knew that my actions would drive you to the Inquisition,” Parvus began. Dorian moaned in frustration.  
“You didn’t!” he said, “I joined because it was the right, the decent thing to do.”  
Dorian bowed his head, looking like a small boy learning that his father was not the perfect man he had once believed him to be.  
“Once I had a father who have known that,” Dorian nearly whispered.  
Parvus said nothing. Dorian gave him a last sad look before turning to the door.  
“Once I had a son who trusted me,” Parvus said very softly, “A trust I betrayed.”  
Dorian turned back quickly to look at him. Clara felt a small surge of hope.  
“I only wanted to talk to him,” the old man said, “To hear him, see his face. To ask him to forgive me.”  
Clara felt tears well up in her eyes as Dorian glanced at her. She nodded encouragingly.  
“I’ll see you back at Skyhold,” she said and quickly left the two men to their quiet reunion.

***

Dorian returned the next afternoon and Clara found him staring quietly out of the window in the library. She approached with hesitation, unsure if he was still angry with her.  
“He says we’re alike,” Dorian said without turning, “Too much pride. I would have liked that comparison once, but now I’m not sure.”  
“You’ve had different experiences,” Clara said, “And you take pride in that. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”  
“Perhaps not,” Dorian said, “But I don’t know if I can forgive him for where his pride took him.”  
“He tried to change you,” Clara said, “That wouldn’t be easy to forgive for anyone.”  
Dorian turned to look at her.  
“Why didn’t you let me decide if I wanted to see him?” Dorian asked, “If I had known, perhaps I would have gone or perhaps not.”  
“I’m sorry,” Clara said, “I thought I was helping you.”  
“Perhaps you were,” Dorian said, “But how will I ever know? I suppose I’ll try to forget that you might have been trying to get me to leave the Inquisition. After all, having a Tevinter in your ranks can’t give your Chantry allies much comfort.”  
Clara looked shocked.  
“I don’t care about what the Chantry has to say about you,” she said, “You’re my friend, my family. I rely on you.”  
Dorian shook his head.  
“Your naivety is enviable,” Dorian said, “But you needn't worry, my desire to put an end to Corypheus is too important to me to chase me from the ranks. I’ll see this through as promised. And you can rest assured I'll do nothing that will endanger your allegiances.”  
"I don't care about that," Clara said. Dorian shook his head.  
"But you do," he replied, "If you didn't, then you wouldn't have taken the word of a Chantry observer over what your own experience has shown you."  
Clara felt her cheeks blaze in shame and her stomach broiled in her throat. With a sigh, Dorian seemed to gain back some of his swagger.  
“At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor,” he said.  
“Can I…” Clara began but Dorian raised a hand.  
“I’d rather be alone if it’s all the same,” he said.  
Clara watched him stroll down the steps. She wandered unknowingly for some time along the battlements until she found herself outside Cullen’s office. Without knowing why, she opened the door. Cullen was sitting at his desk.   
“Ah, Inquisitor, I’ve been going over the…” he stopped as he looked more closely at her face.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. Clara felt the dam break and she threw herself against him, bursting into tears. Cullen’s shock quickly faded as he wrapped his arms around her. And Clara felt that his arms may have been the only thing holding her together at that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am slowly plugging away at this story. Life for me is like slowly wading through mud, but I'm no longer sinking in it. I'm not sure where my future is going to go, but I'm hoping that my ability to write will continue to be part of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the second part of my series. As with the first book, a lot of dialogue will come from the game, but I'm going to be having a lot more original writing between the characters, including some quests for the Inner Circle that I found particularly moving.
> 
> The romance is going to be heating up between characters as well, so be warned: there might be some steamier scenes ahead. 
> 
> Thank you for all the support! I hope you continue to leave kudos, comments, and bookmarks. They really do help me


End file.
